Shun, as Judah's sons of old
Shunn'd the leper, sin-gain'd gold-
Reck not what "the world" holds dearest ;
In the Christian "race" be nearest
To the steps of him 40 who prest
Closest to his Master's breast;
To whom from on high 'twas given
With clear vision to see riven

That dark veil, which from man's eye
Yet conceals Futurity;

His pen, guided from above,

Was replete with Christian "love.”41
Do not, (as "the world" doth,) smile
On the gem-bedecked vile;
Censure boldly, when Reflection
Tells you such was His direction
Who unceasingly defied

Empty Pharisaic pride.42

Such a course (beyond all measure)
Worldlings scoff at; seek not treasure
From their hands-a richer pleasure
Will await you thus hereafter

Through the merits of "your Master "48_

40 John xiii. 23. 41 See St. John's Epistles-passim. 42 Matt. v. 20; xvi. 6-11; Mark viii. 15; xi. 39.

43 Matt. xxiii. 10.

LINES

Written at Portora Castle, on the banks of Lough Erne.

(Aug. 22, 1842.)

L

IKE Elijah's of old, the dark mantle of ev❜ning
Soft as velvet descending, (qq) Lough Erne is
spread o'er,

Oh! how sweet is the scene- -all is tranquil around me
As in silence I muse on this spray-moisten'd shore—
Sleep broods over nature-the balmy-breath'd Zephyr
Has long ceas'd to toy with yon beautiful rose,
He has folded his wings, and fatigued with his dalliance
On the lake's placid bosom has sunk in repose-
Silence reigns undisturb'd-nought disputes her dominion

Not a leaf even moves-the sole sound which I hear,
Is the voice of the wavelets which breaking so gently,
With musical rythm faintly strike on the ear—
Bright Cynthia full-orb'd, deck'd with robes thrice re-
splendent,

Night's beautiful Queen, rides triumphant on high, And (how great is the aid which she lends to reflection,) Guides her silvery car through the star-spangled sky—

442 Kings ii. 11-13.

Proud hopes for the future are rife in my bosom,

As I gaze on the stars mirror'd bright in Lough Erne; Oh! would that some sage with his skill would inspire me

So that I from those stars might my destiny learn— Oh! ye beautiful stars of such diamond-like splendour, Oh! ye gems which the hand of Omniscient might With a brilliance which mocks at all human inventions, So thickly has wove in the mantle of night;

Can ye grant what I seek?—if ye can, oh! assist me;
To you ye bright orbs I most humbly appeal,
Shew the path which lies dark in perspective before me,
Shew me what is to come-oh! the future reveal-
Tell me, tell me, ye stars, are my thoughts too aspiring,
When I hope that e'en yet I may win a proud name;
And obtain for myself by strong mental exertion,

A niche in the temple of laurel-crown'd Fame ?-
Tell me, tell me, ye stars, when I go forth to contest,
And seek, fully-arm'd, the "arena" of mind,
When the struggle is o'er, will the umpire advancing

Round my temples the chaplet of laurel-leaves bind? (Oh! when Intellect bids all her children in phalanx

Against Error and Folly and Falsehood advance, In the very front ranks be it mine, cool and fearless,

Against that dark legion to level a lance

If the warrior in strife burns with madd'ning excitement
When to combat so proudly the serried ranks dash,
If his heart leaps within him, when fiercely and wildly
Sword with sword, spear with spear, on the battle field
clash;

Far more wildly, (methinks) will my heart leap within

me,

When to combat with mind forth to battle I go, Far more madd'ning will be the unbounded excitement When in mind-to-mind struggle I grapple the foe; Far more eager for fame will be my aspirations

When, hoping and doubting, yet still without fear, In Learning's front ranks I stand firm fully harness'd With the mail of45 a Christian, and Intellect's spear. I well know how madly the children of "Mammon” For gold, for indulgence, for luxury pine,

In the sty of their wealth let them wallow; I reck not
But oh! may the Jewel of knowledge be mine;
Full oft have I por'd by the dim midnight taper
O'er the sages of old with enjoyment so rife;
But, O God of mercy, may thy Spirit teach me

To know yet more fully the Volume of Life)———
Still voiceless, ye stars?-oh! 'twas folly to ask you,

For ne'er to blind man have your thoughts been exprest Since of old with those words stamp'd on cruciform brilliance

Ye sooth'd the dark sorrows of (RR) Constantine's breast

Ye stars, since ye will not impart me the knowledge

Which I seek, to another I'll make my appeal, To another who will (I would hope) give me credence And undoubting believe that I say what I feelErin, Erin, dear Erin, oh! my land by adoption, With good wishes at least a young stranger befriend

45 Eph. vi. 11.

46 Matt. viii. 46.

H

Do I see from yon mist thy bright "Genius" arising?

Oh! on me with affection thy countenance bend-— Erin, Erin approach; closer yet-the young stranger With knee lowly bent on thy evergreen land, Would fain pay thee homage and make his obeisance,

While he prints a warm kiss on thy delicate handOh! grant what he asks-grant it quickly-remember That a boon quickly granted is valued the mostGrant it quickly-ah! thank thee-by that precious favour

Thou hast won a new vassal, who true to his post, Will stand by thee till death—if thy sons craven-hearted (It has happen'd ere now) from their duty should flee; Stepping forth in their place, the young Saxon undaunted Will the gauntlet uplift, and do battle for thee! Oh! grant him thy smile when he fearlessly combats, Horse to horse, sword to sword, spear to spear, hand

to hand;

Should he conquer, perchance then, the name of the stranger

Will ring through the vales of thy beautiful landAh! the mist which envelopes thy form is receding, Erin, Erin, farewell! I shall ever love thee;

Yes, roam where I may, thought will dwell on thy beauties; 'Tis night-slumber softly then, (ss) "Cushla machree"-