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Thou ne'er hadst left that sphere;
We ne'er had lost thee here, Mary!
Though fairest forms we see,
Than to remember thee, MARY!*
BY THAT LAKE, WHOSE GLOOMY SHORE.+
AIR.-The Brown Irish Girl.
* I have here made a feeble effort to imitate that exquisite inscription of Shenstone's, “ Heu! quanto minus est cum reliquis versari quam tui meminisse !"
+ This Ballad is founded upon one of the many stories related of St. Kevin, whose bed in the rock is to be seen at Glendalough, a most gloomy and romantic spot in the County of Wicklow.
ỹ There are many other curious traditions concerning this Lake, which may be found in Giraldus, Colgan, etc.
Where the cliff hangs high and steep,
bed." Ah! the good saint little knew What that wily sex can do.
'Twas from KATHLEEN's eyes he flew
before him burn'd.
On the bold cliff's bosom cast,
if fond she be :
Even now, while calm he sleeps,
Fearless she had track'd his feet
GLENDALOUGH! thy gloomy wave
SHE IS FAR FROM THE LAND.
AIR.—Open the Door.
1. She is far from the land where her young hero sleeps,
And lovers are round her, sighing;
For her heart in his grave is lying!
Every note which he loved awaking.-
How the heart of the Minstrel is breaking !
They were all that to life had entwined him,
Nor long will his love stay behind him.
When they promise a glorious morrow;
From her own loved Island of Sorrow!
NAY, TELL ME NOT.
AIR.-Dennis, don't be threatening.
1. Nay, tell me not, dear! that the goblet drowns
One charm of feeling, one fond regret; Believe me, a few of thy angry frowns Are all I've sunk in its bright waye yet.
Ne'er hath a beam
Been lost in the stream
The balm of thy sighs,
The light of thine eyes,
bowl! Then fancy not, dearest! that wine can steal
One blissful dream of the heart from me! Like founts that awaken the pilgrim's zeal,
The bowl but brightens my love for thee!
Had two blush-roses, of birth divine;
But bathed the other with mantling wine.