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The mystic word, till then ne'er told There seemed around me some dark To living creature of earth's mould !
chain, Scarce was it said, when, quick as Which still, as I essayed to soar, thought,
Battled, alas ! each wild endeavour : Her lips from mine, like echo, caught Dead lay my wings, as they have lain The holy sound-her hands and eyes Since that sad hour, and will remainWere instant lifted to the skies,
So wills the offended God-for ever! And thrice to heaven she spoke it out, With that triumphant look Faith
It was to yonder star I traced
Her journey up the illumined wasteWhen not a cloud of fear or doubt,
That isle in the blue firmament,
To which so oft her fancy went
In wishes and in dreams before,
Thy blest rewarıl-ordained to be That very moment her whole frame
Her home of light for evermore! All bright and glorified became, Once-or did I but fancy so ?And at her back I saw unclose
Even in her flight to that fair sphere, Two wings magnificent as those Mid all her spirit's new-felt glow,
That sparkle round the eternal throne, A pitying look she turned below Whose plumes, as buoyantly she rose On him who stood in darkness here; Above me, in the moonbeam shone
Him whom, perhaps, if vain regret With a pure light, which--from its hue, Can dwell in beaven, she pities yet ; Unknown upon this earth-I knew
And oft, when looking to this dim Was light from Eden, glistening And distant world, remembers bim.
through! Most holy vision ! ne'er before But soon that passing dream was gone ;
Did aught so radiant-since the day Farther and farther off she shone, When Lucifer, in falling, bore
Till lessened to a point as small The third of the bright stars away !. As are those specks that yonder hurnRise, in earth's beauty, to repair Those vivid drops of ligbt, that fall That loss of light and glory there !! The last from day's exhausted urn. But did I tamely view her flight ? And when at length she merged, afar,
Did not I, too, proclaim out thrice Into her own immortal star, The powerful words that were, that And when at length my straining sight night,
Had caught her wing's last fading ray, Oh, even for Heaven too much delight !- That minute from my soul the light Again to bring us eyes to eyes,
Of heaven and love both passed away; And soul to soul in Paradise ? And I forgot my home, my birth, I did- I spoke it o'er and o'er
Profaned my spirit, sunk my brow, I prayed, I wept, but all in vain ; And revelled in gross joys of earth, For me the spell had power no more,
Till I bocame-what I am now !
! 'And his tail drew the third part of the stars the completion of that grasle nlone; or, as it i: of heaven, and did cast them to the th. Rev. explained by Salonius (Diat in lucl.) — Decem xii. t:--Docent sancti (says Suai ez) supremum sunt ordines angelorum, sed unus cecidit per angelum traxisse secum tertiam partem stel- superbiam, et idcirco boni angeli seni per laborant, Larum.'-Lib. 7. cap. 7.
ut de hominibus numerus adimpleatur, et pro· The idea of the Fathers was, that the veniat ad perfectum numerum, id est, denariuin.' vacancies occasioned in the different orders of According to some theologians, virgins alone are angels by the tal were to be filled up from the admitted 'ad collegium angelorum;' but thn human race. There is, however, another opinion, authorof the Speculum Peregrinarum Quaestionum backed by papal authority, that it was only the rather questions this exclusive privilege :-' Hoc tenth order of the Celestial Hierarchy that fell, non videtur verum, quia multi, non virgines, ut and that, therefore, the promotions which occa-Pitrus et Magdalena, multis etiam virginibus sionally take place from earth are intended for eminentiores sunt,'—Decud, 2, cap. 10.
Then sails are backed, we nearer come, Come, once more a bumper !- then Kind words are said of friends and drink as you please, home;
Though who could fill half-way to toasts And soon, too soon, we part with pain, such as these ? To sail o'er silent seas again.
“ Here's our next joyous meeting-and
oh, when we meet,
union as sweet!”
Charge! (drinks) hip, hip, hurra,
hurra! Come, fill round a bumper, fill up to
the brim, He who shrinks from a bumper I pledge
That sweet word sounds,
Walks his night-rounds ;
One rose-leaf crush,
Myriads of voices in the air Come, charge high again, boys, nor let
Whisper, “Hush, hush!” the full wine Leave a space in the brimmer where • Hark, hark, 'tis he !" daylight may shine;
The night-elves cry, “ Here's the friends of our youth
And hush their fairy harmony, though of some we're bereft,
While he steals by ; May the links that are lost but endear But if his silvery feet what are left!”
One dewdrop brush,
Voices are heard in chorus sweet, hurra!
Whispering, “Hush, hush !” Once more fill a bumper- ne'er talk of the hour ;
THE PARTING BEFORE THE On hearts thus united old Time has no
BATTLE. power. “May our lives, though, alas ! like the wine of to-night,
On to the field, our doom is sealed, They must soon have an end, to the last
To conquer or be slaves : flow as bright.'
This sun shall see our nation free,
May Heaven thy guardian be, Even faster than ours doth, three bum. And send bright angels from above pers in one ;
To bring thee back to me. Here's the poet who sings—here's the
warrior who fights“Here's the statesman who speaks, in On to the field, the battle-field, the cause of men's rights !”
Where Freedom's standard waves, Charge ! (drinks) hip, hip, hurra, This sun shall see our tyrant yield, hurra!
Or shine upon our graves.
SAY, WHAT SHALL WE DANCE.
Say, what shall we dance ?
Shall we bound along the moonlight Past twelve o'clock—past twelve.
plain Good night, good night, my dearest- To music of Italy, Greece, or Spain ? How fast the moments fly!
Say, what shall we dance ? 'Tis time to part, thou hearest
like those who rove That hateful watchman's cry.
Through bright Grenada's grove,
To the light Bolero's measures move? WATCHMAN.
Or choose the Guaracia's languishing Past one o'clock—past one.
lay, Yet stay a moinent longer
And thus to its sound die away?
Strike the gay chords,
Let us hear each strain from every
That music haunts, or young feet wanPast two o'clock - past two.
der o'er, Now wrap thy cloak about thee- Hark! 'tis the light march, to whose The hours must sure go wrong,
measured time, For when they're passed without thee The Polish lady, by her lover led, They're, oh, ten times as long. Delights through gay saloons with step
untired to tread, WATCHMAN.
Or sweeter still, through moonlight Past three o'clock-past three.
Whose shadows serve to hide
The blush that's raised by him who
talks And see the sky, 'tis morning
Of love the while by her side ; So now, indeed, good night.
Then comes the smooth waltz, to whose WATCHMAN,
Like dreams we go gliding around, Past three o'clock-past three.
Say, which shall we dance? which shall Good night, good night.
we dance ?
Wito UPON NATIONAL MUSIC.
ADVERTISEMENT. e **** wriva for a Benefit at the Dublin Theatre, and were wamba k'w Vitiisha with a degree of success, which they owed solely to her u imensen die sake katika kwesting them. I wrote them in haste, wnd it very rarely Dane a treint whes **, which has cost but little labour to the writer, is productive Les and we de to the reader. Under this impression, I should not have Com ale nie lekey had not found their way into some of the newspapers, Lavad nad om minatoa of errors to their own original stock, that I thought it then clinin adlarilla Rheir responsibility to those faults alone which really belong to
bih '*** to the title which I have invented for this Poem, I feel even Hoe weet miks wraples of the Emperor Tiberius, when he humbly asked pardon
Nene Nute for using the outlandish term Monopoly." But the truth the del conting **$the Poem with the sole view of serving a Benefit, I thought
** tionis ayat he word of this kind would not be without its attraction for siat bawali with whom, *If ’tis not sense, at least ’tis Greek.' To some of
non finita Ane piery it may not be superfluous to say, that by 'Melologue' I ve sandale Hotell Pot of recitation and music, which is frequently adopted in the
sempre w Wling's Ode on the Passions, and of which the most striking lom, ki & ** uember, is the prophetic speech of Joad, in the Athalie of » ਐਲ
The breathes the language, known and felt
hrw the pure air spreads its living zone, Whower rage can rouse, or pity melt
uage of the soul is felt and known.
of old, on some high tower,
late, met an passion, and I cannot refuse the summons; for saco, and would love constrains me to go, that I may be his wife
she cried "For and he my husband.” -Garcilasso de la Vega, in that pipe whleh Sir Paul Rycaut's translation,
mo with great
To the bleak climes of polar night,
The Lapland lover bids his reindeer fly,
As blithe as if the blessed light
O Music ! thy celestial claim
Is still resistless, still the same ! And faithful as the mighty sea
To the pale star that o'er its realm presides,
The spell-bound tides
List ! 'tis a Grecian maid that sings,
She draws the cool lymph in her graceful urn ; And by her side, in music's charm dissolving, Some patriot youth, the glorious past revolving,
Dreams of bright days that never can return;
When Athens nursed her olive bough
And braided for the Muse's brow
When heroes trod each classic field,
When every arm was Freedom's shield,
FLOURISH OF TRUMPET.
HARK ! 'tis the sound that charms The war-steed's wakening ears !
Oh! many a mother folds her arms
Is proud to feel his young pulse bound
See! from his native hills afar,
A conqueror oft-a hero never
As if 'twere like his mountain rill,
And gush'd for ever!
Amid this thoughtless wild career,