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Yet still in her darkness doth Erin lie sleeping,
Still doth the pure light its dawning delay! When will that day-star, mildly springing,
Warm our isle with peace and love? When will Heaven, its sweet bell ringing,
Call my spirit to the fields above?
COME SEND ROUND THE WINE.
AIR.-We brought the Summer with us.
Come, send round the wine, and leave points of belief
To simpleton sages, and reasoning fools ; This moment's a flower too fair and brief,
To be wither'd and stain'd by the dust of the schools. Your glass may be purple and mine may be blue,
But, while they are fill’d from the same bright bowl, The fool who would quarrel for difference of hue
Deserves not the comfort they shed o'er the soul.
II. Shall I ask the brave soldier, who fights by my side
In the cause of mankind, if our creeds agree?
Shall I give up the friend I have valued and tried,
If he kneel pot before the same altar with me? From the heretic girl of my soul shall I ly,
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!
STBLHE WAS THE WARNING.
AIR.— The Black Joke.
1. SUBLIME was the warning which Liberty spoke, And grand was the moment when Spaniards awoke
Into life and revenge from the conqueror's chain! 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 Spain?
If the fame of our fathers, bequeath'd with their rights, Give to country its charm, and to home its delights,
If deceit be a wound and suspicion a stain-
For the Shamrock of ERIN and Olive of SPAIN !
Of the Shamrock of ERIN and Olive of SPAIN !
God prosper the cause moh! it cannot but thrive,
Its devotion to feel, and its rights to maintain;
The young Spirit of Freedom shall shelter their grave,
Beneath Shamrocks of Enix and Olives of SPAIN.
BELIEVE ME, IF ALL THOSE ENDEARING
AIR.--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 away!
Let thy loveliness fade as it will,
Would entwine itself verdantly still!
It is not while beauty and youth are thine own,
And thy cheeks unprofaned by a tear,
To which time will but make thee more dear!