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IRISH MELODIES. |
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ERIN, OH ERIN.
Like the bright lamp that shone in Kildare's holy fane, * And burn'd thro' long ages of darkness and storm,
Is the heart that sorrows have frown'd on in vain, "Whose spirit outlives them, unfading and warm.
Erin, oh Erin, thus bright thro' the tears
Of a long night of bondage thy spirit appears.
The nations have fallen, and thou still art young, Thy sun is but rising, when others are set:
And tho' slavery's cloud o'er thy morning hath hung, The full noon of freedom shall beam round thee yet.
Erin, oh Erin, tho' long in the shade,
Thy star will shine out when the proudest shall fade.
Unchill'd by the rain, and unwak'd by the wind, The lily lies sleeping thro' winter's cold hour,
Till Spring's light touch her fetters unbind,
And daylight and liberty bless the young flower, f
Thus Erin, oh Erin, thy winter is past,
And the hope that liv'd thro' it shall blossom at last.
* The inextinguishable fire of St. Bridget, at Kildare, which Giraldus mentions. " Apud Kildariam occurrit Ignis Sancta? Brigidee, quem inextinguibiiem vocant; non quod extingui non possit, sed quod tam solicite moniales et Sanctis mulieres ignem, suppetente materia, fovcnt et nutriunt, ut a tempore virginis per tot annorum curricula semper mansit inextinctus."— Girald. Camb. de Mirabil. Eibern., dist. ii. c. 34.
■j- Mrs. H. Tighe, in her exquisite lines on the lily, has applied this image to a still more important object. |
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