Thus aided, see his rescued genius spring; Again he pours the phrenzy of his song; With EV’RY FEATHER[11] in his eagle wing, Once more in majesty he soars along.
Oft, deck’d with smiles, his spirit shall explore, Erin! thy beauteous vales and classic ground; And ev’ry ripple of thy winding Nore To him shall sweetly as his Avon’s sound.
[10] The theatricals of Kilkenny are supported by gentlemen of rank and fashion in Ireland, and the profits are applied to charitable purposes.
[11] Alluding to several fine passages of Shakspeare, which have been long omitted in representation, but restored at the theatricals of Kilkenny.
UPON SEEING THE DILAPIDATED STATE OF _BETHLEM HOSPITAL_.
Well with the _purpose_ does the _place_ agree; For e’en the very house is _crack’d_, you see.
Passant, ne pleure point son sort; Car, s’il vivait, tu serais mort.
Nay, passenger, don’t mourn his lot; If he had liv’d, why you had not.
See, the waves clasp the Sun, as he sinks from our sight, And Despair sullen rides on the wings of the night; Lo! he comes, and reproaches our arms with delay,— Then arise, let us go where Revenge points the way!
In the deed should we fall, (since who’ll e’er breathe a slave?) Our free souls shall repose in the realms of the brave; In the song we shall live, and fresh heroes inspire, While the son shall exult in the fate of his sire.
Then know, ye white race! ye too long shake the rod; By this arm ye shall soon be dismiss’d to your God! Then demand, if he bade ye torment, why he gave All the soul of a man to the breast of a slave?
Then prepare; know our hatchets atone for our wrong, And our hearts, like our hatchets, are stubborn and strong: Sleep your last! ye no more shall the morning survey, Nor shall sorrow arise with the break of the day.
Yes, remember the lashes that pierc’d thro’ our flesh! See the wounds of our fathers; they open afresh! In the winds, hark! blue Avrin attends to our call; I, your chief, will be first in your glories, or fall!
WRITTEN ON DELIA, LISTENING TO HER CANARY-BIRD.
When thoughtless Delia unconcern’d surveys Her plumy captive, as he leans to sing, Lo! while she smiles, the fascination stays The little heaven of its airy wing.
Ah! so she tastes the sorrows I impart, Smiles at the sound, but never feels my pain; And many a glance deludes my captive heart To sigh in numbers, tho’ I sigh in vain!