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HIBERNIAN SONGSTER. «
MY EMMET'S NO MORE.
Despair In her wild eye, a daughter of Erin
Appear'd on the cliffs of the bleak rocky shore; Loose in the wind flow'd her dark streaming ringlets
And heedless she gaz'd on the dread surge's roar. Loud rang her harp in wild tones of despairing; The time pass'd away with the present comparing, And in soul-thrilling strains deeper sorrow declaring,
She sang Erin's woes and her Emmet no more. O, Erin, my country, your glory's departed;
For tyrants and traitors have stabbed thy heart's core; Thy daughters have laved in the streams of affliction,
Thy patriots have fled, or lie stretched in their gore, Ruthless ruffians now prowl thro' thy hamlets forsaken, Prom pale hungry orphans their last morsel have taken; The screams of thy females no pity awaken;
Alas! my poor country, your Emmet's no more. Brave was his spirit, yet mild as the Brahmin,
His heart bled in anguish the wrongs of the poor; To relieve their hard sufferings he brav'd every danger,
The vengeance of tyrants undauntedly bore. E'en before him the proud titled villains in power Were seen, though in ermine, in terror to cower; But alas! he is gone, he has fallen, a young flower.
They have murder'd my Emmet, my Emmet's no more. |
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MOLLIE DARLING.
"Won't you tell me, Mollie darling,
That you love none else hut me? For I love you, Mollis darling,
You are all the world to me. Oh! tell me, darling, that you love me,
Put your little hand In mine, Take my heart, sweet Mollie darling,
Say that you will give me thine. Chorus,—Mollie, fairest, sweetest, dearest,
Look up. darling, tell me this: Do you love me, Mollie darling?
Let your answer be a kiss. Stars are smiling, Mollie darling,
Through the mystic veil of night; They seem laughing, Mollie darling,
While fair Luna hides her light; Oh! no one listens hut the flowers,
While they hang their heads In shame, They are modest, Mollle darling,
When they hear me call your name.
Mollie, fairest, etc. I must leave you, Mollie darling,
Though the parting gives me pain; "When the stars shine, Mollie darling,
I will meet you here again. Oh! good-night, Mollie, good-bye, loved one,
Happy may you ever be! When you're dreaming, Mollie darling,
Don't forget to dream of me.
Mollie, fairest, etc. |
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NORAH, THE PRIDE OF KILDARE.
As beauteous as Flora is charming young Norah, The joy of my heart and the pride of Kildare,
I ne'er will deceive her, for sadly 'twould grieve her, To find that I sighed for another less fair. , Chorus.—Her heart with truth teeming, her eye with smiles beaming, |
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