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ADVERTISEMENT

TO THE

SEVENTH NUMBER.

IF I had consulted only my own judgment, this Work would not have extended beyond the Six Numbers already published; which contain, perhaps, the flower of our national melodies, and have attained a rank in public favour, of which I would not willingly risk the forfeiture, by degenerating, in any way, from those merits that were its source. Whatever treasures of our music were still in reserve, (and it will be seen, I trust, that they are numerous and valuable,) I would gladly have left to future poets to glean, and, with the ritual words “ tibi trado,would have delivered up the torch into other hands, before it had lost much of its light in my own. But the call for a continuance of the work has been, as I understand from the Publisher, so general, and we have received so many contributions of old and beautiful airs *, the suppression of which, for the enhancement of those we have published, would resemble too much the policy of the Dutch in burning their spices, that I have been persuaded, though not without considerable diffidence in my success, to commence a new series of the Irish Melodies.

T. M.

* One Gentleman, in particular, whose name I shall feel happy in being allowed to mention, has not only sent us nearly forty ancient airs, but has communicated many curious fragments of Irish poetry, and some interesting traditions current in the country where he resides, illustrated by sketches of the romantic scenery to which they refer ; all of which, though too late for the present Number, will be of infinite service to us in the prosecution of our task.

DEDICATION

TO

THE MARCHIONESS OF HEADFORT,

PREFIXED TO THE

TENTH NUMBER.

It is with a pleasure, not unmixed with melancholy, that I dedicate the last Number of the Irish Melodies to your Ladyship ; nor can I have any doubt that the feelings with which you receive the tribute will be of the same mingled and saddened tone. To you, who though but little beyond the season of childhood, when the earlier numbers of this work appeared, lent the aid of your beautiful voice, and, even then, exquisite feeling for music, to the happy circle who met, to sing them together, under your father's roof, the gratification, whatever it may be, which this humble offering brings, cannot be otherwise than darkened by the mournful reflection, how many of the voices which then joined with ours are now silent in death!

I am not without hope that, as far as regards the grace and spirit of the Melodies, you will find this closing portion of the work not unworthy of what has preceded it. The Sixteen Airs, of which the Number and the Supplement consist, have been selected from the immense mass of Irish music which has been for years past accumulating in my hands; and it was from a desire to include all that appeared most worthy of preservation, that the four supplementary songs which follow this Tenth Number have been added.

Trusting that I may yet again, in remembrance of old times, hear our voices together in some of the harmonised airs of this Volume, I have the honour to subscribe myself, Your Ladyship’s faithful Friend and Servant,

THOMAS MOORE. Sloperton Cottage,

May, 1834.

IN DE X.

Page

34 130 115 11

After the Battle.......
Alone in crowds to wander on ..........
And doth not a meeting like this make amends
As a beam o'er the face of the waters may glow.....
As slow our ship her foamy track....
As vanquish'd Erin wept beside ........
At the mid hour of night, when stars are weeping....
Avenging and bright fall the swift sword of Erin

83

118

55

49

32

25

Before the Battle........
Believe me, if all those endearing young charms....
By that Lake, whose gloomy shore....
By the Feal’s wave benighted.......
By the hope within us springing......

46

119

32

68

Come o'er the sea ..............
Come, rest in this bosom, my own stricken deer.....
Come, send round the wine, and leave points of belief...........

76

23

Dear Harp of my country! in darkness I found thee.........
Desmond's Song ......
Down in the valley come meet me to-night...........
Drink of this cup-you'll find there's a spell in
Drink to her who long ..

81 119 100

...........

99

27

104

26

Echo ........
Erin ! oh Erin !
Erin! the tear and the smile in thine eyes.
Eveleen's Bower ....

M

4

19

..............

Fairest! put on awhile ........
Farewell ! — but whenever you welcome the hour
Fill the bumper fair ..........
Fly not yet ; 't is just the hour.......
Forget not the field where they perish'd
From this hour the pledge is given

Page
112
64
79

7
92
140

Go where Glory waits thee.........

1

69
51

Has sorrow thy young days shaded .......
Here we dwell, in holiest bowers
How dear to me the hour when daylight dies ...
How oft has the Benshee cried
How sweet the answer Echo makes

14

16
104

....

I'd mourn the hopes that leave me...........
If thou 'lt be mine, the treasures of air.
Ill Omens..........
In the morning of life, when its cares are unknown.
In yonder valley there dwelt, alone
I saw from the beach, when the morning was shining
I saw thy form in youthful prime......
It is not the tear at this moment shed.....
I've a secret to tell thee, but hush! not here
I wish I was by that dim Lake

67
90
31
84
117
78
45
38
131
121

136
43

20

Lay his sword by his side
Lesbia hath a beaming eye......
Let Erin remember the days of old
Like the bright lamp that shone in Kildare's holy fane
Love and the Novice
Love's young Dream

26

51
39

My gentle Harp, once more I waken.

82

.........

Nay, tell me not, dear, that the goblet drowns.............
Ne'er ask the hour - what is it to us...............
Night clos'd around the conqueror's way.
No, not more welcome the fairy numbers.........

48
95
34

70
Page
102
102
135
104

28

5
137
65

94

63

O'Donohue's Mistress ......
Of all the fair months that round the sun..
Oh! Arranmore, lov'd Arranmore
Oh banquet not in those shining bowers
Oh! blame not the bard, if he fly to the bowers....
Oh! breathe not his name, let it sleep in the shade ......
Oh! could we do with this world of ours .........
Oh! doubt me not...... ......
Oh for the swords of former time .......
Oh! had we some bright little isle of our own
Oh! haste and leave this sacred isle.......
Oh! the days are gone, when Beauty bright....
Oh, the sight entrancing......
Oh! the Shamrock......
Oh! think not my spirits are always as light
Oh! 't is sweet to think that where'er we rove.
Oh! weep for the hour
Oh ! where's the slave so lowly ..
Oh, ye Dead ! oh, ye Dead! whom we know
On Music..........
One bumper at parting !- tho' many.....

12

39

108
53

61

19

75
101
37
56

Quick! we have but a second........

114

3

Remember the glories of Brien the Brave...........
Remember thee ? yes, while there's life in this heart.........
Rich and rare were the gems she wore...........

86
10

96

Sail on, sail on, thou fearless bark
Shall the Harp then be silent, when he who first gare
She is far from the land where her young hero sleeps .......
She sung of Love, while o'er her lyre
Silent, oh Moyle, be the roar of thy water
Silence is in our festal halls
Sing—sing - Music was given.
Sing, sweet Harp, oh sing to me ........
Song of Innis
Song of the Battle Eve.........
Strike the gay harp! see the moon is on high.

106

...........

47
123

22
141
124
126
132
127
133

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