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I have not a joy but of thy bringing,
From thee, thee, only thee. -
Till lips, that know the charm, have spoken, This heart, howe'er the world may wake
Its grief, its scorn can but be broken :: By thee, thee, only thee.
SHALL THE HARP THEN BE SILENT?
SHALL the Harp then be silent, when he, who . first gave To our country a name, is withdrawn from all
eyes? Shall a Minstrel of Erin stand mute by the grave, Where the first—where the last of her Patriots
No_faint though the death-song may fall from
his lips, Though his Harp, like his soul, may with sha
dows be crost, Yet, yet shall it sound, mid a nation's eclipse, And proclaim to the world what a star hath
been lost" ? " It is only these two first verses, that are either fitted or intended to be sung.
What a union of all the affections and powers, By which life is exalted, embellish'd, re
fined, Was embraced in that spirit whose centre was
ours, • While its mighty circumference circled man
Oh, who that loves Erin-or who that can see, Through the waste of her annals that epoch
sublime Like a pyramid, raised in the desert--where
he And his glory stand out to the eyes of all
That one lucid interval snatch'd from the gloom And the madness of ages, when, fülld with his
soul, A nation o'erleap'd the dark bounds of her
doom, And, for one sacred instant, touch'd Liberty's
Who, that ever hath heard him-hath drank at
the source Of that wonderful eloquence, all Erin's own, In whose high-thoughted daring, the fire, and
the force, . And the yet untamed spring of her spirit are
An eloquence fich-wheresoever its wave Wander'd free and triumphant,with thoughts
that shone through, As clear as the brook's “stone of lụstre,” and
Who, that ever approach'd him, when, free from
the crowd, In a home full of love, he delighted to
tread, 'Mong the trees which a nation had given, and
which bow'd, · As if each brought a new civic crown for his
That home, where—like him who, as fable hath
told, Put the rays from his brow, that his child
might come nearEvery glory forgot, the most wise of the old Became all that the simplest and youngest
Is there one who hath thus through his orbit of life, But at distance observed him—through glory,
through blame, . In the calm of retreat, in the grandeur of strife Whether shining or clouded, still high and the
Such a union of all that enriches life's hour, . Of the sweetness we love and the greatness
we praise, As that type of simplicity blended with power,
A child with a thunderbolt only pourtrays.
* Apollo, in his interview with Phaëton, as described by Ovid :-" Deposuit radios propriùsque accedere jussit.