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From the heretic girl of my soul shall I fly,
To seek somewhere else a more orthodox kiss? No! perish the hearts and the laws that try
Truth, valour, or love, by a standard like this!
SUBLIME WAS THE WARNING.
AIR—The Black Joke.
SUBLIME was the warning which liberty spoke, And grand was the moment when Spaniards
awoke It was life and revenge from the Conqueror's
chains! Oh, liberty! let not this spirit have rest Till it move like a breeze o'er the waves of the
westGive the light of your look to each sorrowing spot, Nor, oh! be the Shamrock of Erin forgot, While you add to your Garland the Olive of
If the fame of your fathers, bequeath'd with their
rights, Give to country its charm and to home its de
If deceit be a wound, and suspicion a stain; Then ye men of Iberia! our cause is the sameAnd oh! may his tomb want a tear and a name, Who would ask for a nobler, a holier death, Than to breathe his last sigh into Victory's breast;
For the Shamrock of Erin and Olive of Spain!
Ye Blakes and O'Donnels, whose fathers resign'd The green hills of their youth among strangers
to find That repose which, at home, they had sigh'd
for in vain, Breathe a hope that the magical flame which you
light, May be felt yet in Erin, as calm and as bright; And forgive even Albion, while blushing she
. draws, Like a truant, her sword, in the long-slighted
cause Of the Shamrock of Erin and Olive of Spain!
God prosper the cause. -Oh! it cannot but thrive, While the pulse of one patriot heart is alive,
Its devotion to free and its rights to maintain: Then how sainted by sorrow its martyrs will die! The finger of glory shall point where they lie; While far from the footsteps of coward or slave, The young Spirit of Freedom shall shelter their
grave, Beneath Shamrocks of Erin and Olives of
BELIEVE ME IF ALL THOSE ENDEARING
My Lodging is on the cold Ground.
Believe me if all those endearing young charms,
Which I gaze on so fondly to-day, Were to change by to-morrow and fleet in my arms
Like fairy-gifts fading awayThou wouldst still be 'adored, as this moment
thou art, Let thy loveliness fade as it will; And around the dear ruin each wish of my heart
Would entwine itself verdantly still.
It is not while beauty and youth are thine own,
And thy cheeks unprofaned by a tear, That the fervour and faith of a soul can be known
To which time will but make thee more dear!