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1SS |
HYLAND'S MAMMOTH |
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'TWAS ONE OF THOSE DREAMS.
'Twas one of those dreams that hy music are brought Like a bright summer haze o'er the poet's warm thought; When lost in the future his soul wanders on, And all of this life but its sweetness is gone.
The wild notes he heard o'er the waters were those To which he had sung Erin's bondage and woes. And the breath of the bugle now wafted them o'er, From Dina's green isle to Glen&'s wooded shore.
He listen'd while high o'er the eagle's rude nest, The lingering sounds on their way lov'd to rest; And the echoes sung hack from their full mountain quire. As if loth to let song so enchanting expire.
Ev'n so, tho" thy mem'ry should now die away, 'Twill be caught up again in some happier day, And the hearts and the voices of Erin prolong Thro' the answering future thy name and thy song. |
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WHEN COLD IN THE EABTH.
When cold in the earth lies the friend thou hast lov'd,
Be his faults and his follies forgot by thee then; Or, if from their slumber the veil be remov'd,
Weep o'er them in silence and close it again. And oh! if 'tis pain to remember how far
From the pathways of light he was tempted to roam. Be it bliss to remember that thou wert the star
That arose on his darkness and guided him home.
From thee and thy Innocent beauty first came
The revealings that taught him true love to adore, To feel the bright presence and turn him with shame
From the idols he blindly had knelt to before. O'er the waves of a life, long benighted and wild,
Thou cam'st like a soft golden calm o'er the sea; And if happiness purely aru3 glowingly smiled
On his evening horizon, the light was from thee. |
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WHY, LIQUOR OF LIFE.
Why, liquor of life, do I love you so,
When in all our encounters you lay me low?
More stupid and senseless I cv'ry day grow.
What a hint if I'd mended by the warning! 'Tis tattered and torn, you've left my coat, I've not a cravat to save my throat. Yet I'll pardon you all, my sparkling doat,
If you'll cheer me again in the morning.
You're my soul, my treasure without and within. My sister, my cousin, and all my kin; 'Tis unlucky to wed such a prodigal sin,
But all other enjoyments are vain, love. My barley ricks all turn to you, My tillage, my plough, my horses too. My cows and my sheep, I have bade them adieu;
For I care not while you remain, love.
And many's the quarrel and fight we've had. And many's the time you have made me mad, But while I've a heart it can never be sad
While you smile at me full on the table. For surely you are my wife and brother, My only child—my father and mother— My outside coat—I have no other,
Och, I'll stand by you while I'm able. |
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