Land, for courts and chains alone?
Here we are slaves;
But on the waves,
Love and liberty's all our own!
eye to watch, and no tongue to wound us, earth forgot, and all heaven around us! Then come o'er the sea,
Come wherever the wild wind blows;
Seasons may roll,
But the true soul
Burns the same where e'er it goes.
IAS SORROW THY YOUNG DAYS SHADED.
IAS sorrow thy young days shaded
As clouds o'er the morning fleet?
Too fast have those young days faded,
That even in sorrow were sweet!
Does Time with his cold wings wither
Each feeling that once was dear?---
Come, child of misfortune! come hither,
I'll weep with thee, tear for tear.
Has lovet o that soul so tender
Been like our Lagenian mine,*
Where sparkles of golden splendour
All over the surface shine?
But if in pursuit we go deeper,
Allur'd by the gleam that shone,
Ah! false as the dream of the sleeper,
Like love the bright ore is gone.
Has Hope, like the bird in the story,†
That flitted from tree to tree,
With talisman's glittering glory-
Has hope been that bird to thee?
On branch after branch alighting,
The gem did she still display,
And when nearest and most inviting,
Then waft the fair gem away?
If thus the sweet hours have fleeted,
When sorrow herself look'd bright;
If thus the fond hope has cheated,
That led thee along so light;
Our Wicklow gold mines, to which the verse alludes, deserves, I fear, the character here given of them.
"The bird, having got its prize, settled not far off with the talisman in bis mouth. The prince drew near it, hoping it would drop it; but, as it approached, the bird took wing, and settled again," &c.-ARABIAN NIGHTS--Story of Kummer al Zum maun and the princess of China.
If thus the unkind world wither
Each feeling that once was dear;
Come, child of misfortune! come hither,
I'll weep for thee, tear for tear.
NO, NOT MORE WELCOME THE FAIRY NUMBERS.
No, not more welcome the fairy numbers
Of music fall on the sleeper's ear,
When, half-awaking from fearless slumbers,
He thinks the full choir of heaven is near,-
Than came that voice, when, all forsaken,
This heart long had sleeping lain,
Nor thought its cold pulse would ever waken
Sweet voice of comfort! 'twas like the stealing
Of summer wind thro' some wreathed shell;
Each secret winding, each inmost feeling
Of all my soul echoed to its spell!
Twas whisper'd balm—'twas sunshine spoken!
I'd live years of grief and pain,
To have my long sleep of sorrow broken,
By such benign, blessed sounds again!
AIR-" O, Patrick, fly from me.”
WHEN first I met thee, warm and young,
There shone such truth about thee,
And on thy lip such promise hung,
I did not dare to doubt thee.
I saw thee change, yet still relied,
Still clung with hope the fonder,
And thought, though false to all beside,
From me thou could'st not wander.
But go, deceiver! go,
The heart whose hopes could make it
Trust one so false, so low,
Deserves that thou should'st break it!
When every tongue thy follies nam'd,
I fled th' unwelcome story;
Or found, in e'en the faults they blam'd,
Some gleams of future glory.
I still was true, when nearer friends,
Conspir'd to wrong, to slight thee;
The heart, that now thy falsehood rends,
Would then have bled to right thee.
But go, deceiver! go,-
Some day, perhaps, thou'lt waken
From pleasure's drean., to know
The grief of hearts forsaken.
Even now, though youth its bloom has shed,
No lights of age adorn thee;
The few, who lov'd thee once, have fled,
And they who flatter, scorn thee.
Thy midnight cup is pledg'd to slaves,
No genial ties enwreath it,
The smiling there, like light on graves,
Has rank, cold hearts beneath it!
Go-go-though worlds were thine,
I would not now surrender
One taintless tear of mine,
For all thy guilty splendour!
And days may come, thou false one! yet,
When even those ties shall sever;
When thou wilt call, with vain regret,
On her thou'st lost for ever;
On her, who, in thy fortune's fall,
With smiles had still received thee,
And gladly died to prove thee all
Her fancy first believ'd thee.
Go-go-'tis vain to curse,
'Tis weakness to upbraid thee;
Hate cannot wish thee worse,
Than guilt and shame have made thee.
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