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THE PRINCE'S DAY.*
AIR.–St. Patrick's Day:
I. THOUGH dark are our sorrows, to-day we'll forget
them, And smile through our tears, like a sun-beam in
showers ; There never were hearts, if our rulers would let them, More form’d to be grateful and bless'd than ours!
But, just when the chain
Has ceased to pain, And hope has enwreathed it round with flowers,
There comes a new link
Our spirit to sinkOh! the joy that we taste, like the light of the poles,
Is a flash amid darkness, too brilliant to stay; But, though 'twere the last little spark in our souls,
We must light it up now on our Prince's Day.
* This song was written for a fête in honour of the Prince of Wales's Birth-Day, given by my friend, Major Bryan, at his seat in the county of Kilkenny.
Contempt on the minion who calls you disloyal!
Though fierce to your foe, to your friends you are
And the tribute most high to a head that is royal,
While cowards who blight
Your fame, your right,
The Standard of Green
faith! were you summon'd this minute, You'd cast every bitter remembrance away, And show what the arm of old ERIN has in it,
When roused by the foe, on her Prince's Day.
life on your
In hearts which have suffer'd too much to forget ; And hope shall be crown'd, and attachment rewarded, And Erin's gay jubilee shine out yet!
The gem may be broke
But nothing can cloud its native ray;
Each fragment will cast
A light, to the last! And thus, Erin, my country! though broken thou
art, There's a lustre within thee that ne'er will decay; A spirit which beams through each suffering part,
And now smiles at their pain, on the Prince's Day!
WEEP ON, WEEP ON.
AIR.—The Song of Sorrow.
WEEP on, weep on, your hour is past;
Your dreams of pride are o'er ;
And you are men no more!
The sage's tongue hath warn’d in vain ;-
It never lights again!
They'll learn to love your name ;
That now must sleep in blame ! And, when they tread the ruin'd isle,
Where rest, at length, the lord and slave, They'll wond'ring ask, how hands so vile
Could conquer hearts so brave.
III. “ 'Twas fate,” they'll say,
" a wayward fate 66 Your web of discord wove; “ And, while your tyrants join’d in hate,
“ You never join'd in love! “ But hearts fell off that ought to twine,
“ And man profaned what God hath given, • Till some were heard to curse the shrine
66 Where others knelt to Heaven!”
LESBIA HATH A BEAMING EYE.
1. Lesbia hath a beaming eye,
But no one knows for whom it beameth; Right and left its arrows fly,
But what they, aim at no one dreameth! Sweeter 'tis to gaze upon
My Nora's lid, that seldom rises;
Oh, my Nora CREINA, dear!'
In many eyes,
LESBIA wears a robe of gold,
But all so close the nymph hath laced it, Not a charm of Beauty's mould Presumes to stay where Nature placed it!