That dark o'er the kingdoms of earth is returning, II. For high was thy hope, when those glories were darting Around thee, through all the gross clouds of the world; When Truth, from her fetters indignantly starting, At once, like a sun-burst, her banner unfurl'd.* Oh, never shall earth see a moment so splendid! Then, then-had one Hymn of Deliverance blended The tongues of all nations-how sweet had ascended The first note of Liberty, ERIN! from thee. III. But, shame on those tyrants who envied the blessing! "The Sun-burst" was the fanciful name given by the ancient Irish to the Royal Banner. I SAW FROM THE BEACH. AIR.-Miss Molly. I. I SAW from the beach, when the morning was shining, A bark o'er the waters move gloriously on; I came, when the sun o'er that beach was declining,— The bark was still there, but the waters were gone! II. Ah! such is the fate of our life's early promise, So passing the spring-tide of joy we have known: Each wave, that we danced on at morning, ebbs from us, And leaves us, at eve, on the bleak shore alone! III. Ne'er tell me of glories, serenely adorning The close of our day, the calm eve of our night;— Give me back, give me back the wild freshness of Morning, Her clouds and her tears are worth Evening's best IV. Oh, who would not welcome that moment's returning, When passion first waked a new life through his frame, And his soul-like the wood that grows precious in burning Gave out all its sweets to love's exquisite flame ! FILL THE BUMPER FAIR. AIR.-Bob and Joan. I. FILL the bumper fair! Every drop we sprinkle O'er the brow of Care, Smoothes away a wrinkle. Wit's electric flame Ne'er so swiftly passes, As when through the frame It shoots from brimming glasses. Fill the bumper fair! Every drop we sprinkle O'er the brow of Care, Smoothes away a wrinkle. II. Sages can, they say, Grasp the lightning's pinions, And bring down its ray From the starr'd dominions :— So We, Sages, sit, And, 'mid bumpers bright'ning, From the Heaven of Wit Draw down all its lightning! III. Wouldst thou know what first Made our souls inherit This ennobling thirst For wine's celestial spirit? It chanced upon that day, When, as bards inform us, PROMETHEUS Stole away The living fires that warm us. Fill the bumper, etc. IV. The careless Youth, when up To Glory's fount aspiring, Took nor urn nor cup To hide the pilfer'd fire in : But oh his joy! when, round V. Some drops were in that bowl, Remains of last night's pleasure, With which the Sparks of Soul Mix'd their burning treasure! Hence the goblet's shower Hath such spells to win us— Hence its mighty power O'er that Flame within us. Fill the bumper, etc. VOL. IV. 8 |