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 1 2 3 
 
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THE 
 
 I 
 
 %J 
 
 SPIRIT'S LAMENT 
 
 OR, 
 
 iw 
 
 I Mi 
 
 THE WRONGS OF IRELAND, 
 
 '; >;• 
 
 BY F. B. RYAN. 
 
 But, onward the green banner rearing, 
 Go flesn every sword to the hilt 
 
 On our side is -virtue and Erin, 
 On theirs is the Saxon and Guilt. 
 
 MOOBEr 
 
 MONTREAL 
 
 1847. 
 
MONTREAL :-J. STARKE & CO.^ PRINTERS. 
 
 i 
 
 \ 
 
i 
 
 i 
 
 \ 
 
 TO JOHN O'CONNELL, ESQ., M. P. 
 Sir, 
 
 To tlie Illustrious Liberator of Ireland — 
 the rescuer of the slave, the untiring champion of civil 
 and reUgious liberty — I intended to inscribe the follow- 
 ing trifling production, when the world vvept death of 
 the Great Leader obHged me to change my purpose. 
 But though the fates have denied to me the wished for 
 privilege, the honor is still left to me of dedicating it 
 to you, the inheritor of his talents, the participator ot 
 his triumphs; to you who, through weal and woe, fol- 
 lowed the dictates of his wisdom, and who, even now, 
 in the midst of death and desolation, preserve in its 
 integrality a distracted country's nationality. 
 
 I am fully conscious of the demerits of this work. 
 In it there is no exhibition of those mental corusca- 
 tions which should flash upon the pages dedicated to 
 the gifted son of the laurel-crowned Agitator ; but 
 though it be deficient in intellectual attributes, I trust 
 it shall not be found wanting in sincerity and patriot- 
 ism. Were my abilities as uncircumscribed as my 
 wishes, this unpretending effort of my inexperienced 
 muse would be worthy of him to whom it is offered, as 
 an humble tribute of respect and admiration, by 
 
 His very obedient servant, 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
i 
 
 I 
 
T 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 ,. 
 
 
 m 
 
 i 1^ 
 
 A^ it is customary now-a-days with the delmtantm 
 m the field of literature to bore their readers with 
 a preface, I suppose I must follow in the wake of 
 Fashion, and subscribe to the implied regulation. 
 
 The following Poem was commenced under the m- 
 Huence of r.any agitating feelings, engendered by 
 \kiQ V,-:ui-al of O'Gonneirs Memoirs of Ireland, a 
 synopsis of the history of that country from the year 
 \]JV^- to the year 1840, 8g;ainst which the charge of 
 pv;/a^'eatiow'! falsehcod, or partiality, cannot be ad- 
 duced, as it IS principally composed of extracts from 
 historians, chiefly Protestant, most of whom were in-^ 
 terested in traducing the Irish People, and many of 
 whom were open assailants of their religion. That 
 - -ork, in the mo . clear and irrefutable manner, pour- 
 trays the rapacity, injustice, ingratitude, intolerance, 
 and tyi-anny of England, towards the neighbormg 
 island, for a period of more than six hundred years ; 
 it presents to the world a brave, generous, and gallant 
 people, strugghng, alas, unsuccessfully, against the 
 violence or wiles of a treacherous State, as prudence 
 indicated the adoption of either course. It display?, 
 with a truthful and vigorous force, the base treachery, 
 domineering despotism, and degrading and disgusting 
 policy of England ; and shows, by a reference to 
 British writers, the ingenuous conduct, unwavering 
 jij^iti.-, ..>«+:««+ /ir.<^ny.annp nnswftrvin<3i' intesTritv, and 
 
 unequalled virtues of Ireland. 
 
 A2 
 
VI 
 
 PREFACE- 
 
 In a work like this it would be utterly impossible for 
 me to give more than a mere sketch of the suffermgs 
 of Ireland; nor can more be required in a composition of 
 such a nature. Those who wish to explore the history 
 of that once prosperous land, and to ascertain the 
 cause of its present fallen condition, will not seek for 
 that knowledge in a poetical production. I have not 
 deviated from the truth in my portraiture of the tacts 
 alluded to in the text ; and if it be objected, that my 
 language is too strong, or that history is distorted or 
 perverted in the subsequent pages, I reply, that any 
 person may satisfy his scruples or suspicions by refer- 
 ring to those authors to whom his attention is directed 
 in the notei ; and if, after reading them, he do not 
 acknowledge that language much harsher than that 
 used by me would be perfectly justifiable, I consider 
 that he must be, to a very great extent, imbued with 
 the leaven of prejudice or scepticism. 
 
 I am fully prepared to encounter the blustering 
 denunciations and angry anathemata of the termagant 
 Tory Press of Canada ; and am equally ready to look 
 with calm indifference— or rather with unaffected 
 scorn— on the malignant maledictions of the public 
 organs of ascendancy and monopoly in the Parent 
 State, should this work reach to the other side of the 
 Atlantic; but the vampire vituperation, ejected by 
 rampant Toryism, or frothing Orangeism, I contemn 
 as heartily as I would despise the venal flattery which 
 tliey so frequently offer on the a tar of prostitution. 
 
 Should I be indicted on the ground of plagiarism^ I 
 at once plead guilty to the charge ; but if this crime 
 should be numbered among the many faults contained 
 in this book, it should not be forgotten that the few 
 
 / 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 Til 
 
 / 
 
 1 
 
 i 
 
 pirated ideas, coming from such a source, lend value and 
 validity to one of the accusations I prefer against Eng- 
 land, viz., her advocacy of a religious ascendancy : I 
 acknowledge I have borrowed some sentiments Irom 
 one of Ireland's most impassioned orators, the eloquent 
 Phillips ; one whom as an ardent advocate I admire, 
 whom as a renegade I detest. 
 
 There is a portion of this poem— that in which cer- 
 tain deceased personages, of infamous notoriety wh(;n 
 in this world, are represented as enjoying the bounty 
 of his Satanic Majesty,— the idea of which many may 
 consider I took from Ward. Such, however, is not 
 the case. Immediately after that had been written, I 
 was reading it to a friend, when he informed me that 
 that Poet exhibited some of his dramatis persam in 
 the unenviable situation of inhabitants of the infernal 
 regions. I was not aware of the circumstances before, 
 for the simple reason that I never read a line of Ward's 
 works in my life. . 
 
 To my warm-hearted countrymen I appeal for sym- 
 pathy and approval ; and who, possessed of honest in- 
 tentions, ever appealed to them fruitlessly ? If this 
 trifling essay should make but one proselyte to the 
 hallowed cause of Feedom, or incite to increased exer- 
 tions those who are so nobly endeavouring to achieve 
 it, then " The Spirit's Lament shall not have been 
 breathed in vain ; and, if my fellow countrymen should 
 deem me undeserving of the bays of the Poet, I shall 
 be more than fully recompensed if they award to me 
 the wreath of the Patriot. 
 
Th 
 
 W 
 
 Oi 
 
 Tl 
 
 O 
 
 O 
 
 B 
 
THE SPIRIT'S LAMENT. 
 
 \ 
 
 The heart of the Patriot sickens whenever 
 
 He thinks on the curse of his fondly lov land ; 
 When her hopes are the brightest dissension can ocver 
 
 The friendship cementing her warrior l>'>;id, — 
 Or rather her bands ; for in ages gone by, 
 
 In " the gem of the Ocean", as well as to-day, 
 There were spirits of iron, whose every sigh 
 
 Was wafted to Liberty's heavenly ray. 
 Too long, did they say, they had bowed to the stranger,— 
 
 'Twere nobler, surely, to sink in their graves,— 
 Far better, like men, to encounter the danger, 
 
 Than live as they were, but a nation of slaves ; 
 For such times and events 'twas a glorious decree, 
 
 When Tyranny sat, with a grin of delight, 
 On a pyramid raised with the bones of the free, 
 
 And the c'esclate land bent the knee in affright. 
 Oh, did they but leave to one arm to . -rest 
 
 From the gore dabbled monster thu guile plundered prey. 
 The might of O'Neill had unyoked the oppress'd. 
 
 And the badge of the serf were unseen by to-day. 
 But while victory followed the warrior's ranks,' 
 
 The truculent Council determined to sell 
 The half-rescued country, tho' Blackwater's banks 
 
 Replied to the shrieks of the foe as they fell. 
 
 T^./^,r v.oc.^i^r /lo«oriPfl flip land of their sires,* 
 When that land was contending for honor, for all 
 The balms of this Ufe, when the t<irce glowing j-ea 
 
1 Q THE spirit's lament ; 
 
 Each palace and cot, on each mountain and valley, 
 
 On each crag of the coast, I, each stream m the plam , 
 
 Each lone spot re-echoed where courage could rally 
 The few who opposed the invaders m vam ; 
 
 \nd the Genius of Ireland looked on with a smile, 
 
 ' And the lustre of hope shot once more from her eyes, 
 
 The halo of glory beam'd around her awlule, 
 Till the tempest of discord swept over her skies. 
 
 Then the green mantled spirit no longer delay d 
 
 To look on the pangs of the men who could bear 
 1 he yoke of the helot, nor dare draw the blade, 
 
 Nor measure the pike with the Sassenach spear. 
 She wended her way to a far distant dime, 
 
 Un-irt by the strong links of tyranny's chain, 
 Determined to make it her home 'till the time 
 
 That her Country would rise among nations again. 
 The Genius communed with twin spirits of air, 
 
 And learn'd from them 'twas high Heaven s decree, 
 That its envoy should rescue the land of her care 
 
 And her soil should be trodden once more by the free , 
 That the conqueror's weapons should be those of Peace, 
 
 - Perseverance" the watch-word to gather his band, 
 And " Order" the chemical dye to efface 
 
 The festering imprint of Slavery's brand. 
 'Twas written, they said, that her destined restoi'er 
 Would trace his descent from the Dalgassian line. 
 And when treachery's cloud would rise threat'mngly o er lier, 
 
 Like the star that illumines the dayhght s dec me, 
 He would rise in her sky, all its darkness dispelhng, 
 
 The l^'^'-nld of lisht and the omen of peace. 
 And tho' circled by lumhious bodies excelUng 
 
 The rest of the orbs in effulgence and grace. 
 They said that Britannia's troops would assemble,- 
 
 tL the shout of rebellion would rise o'er the earth,- 
 That the far scatter d armies of England would tremble 
 
 \ 
 
 N 
 
i 
 
 OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 11 
 
 \ 
 
 o ; 
 
 her, 
 
 i 
 
 11,- 
 
 ble 
 
 She heard the gla^l tidings with feelings of wonder. 
 
 And wing'd her away to her Isle in the sea, 
 And wished for the day when the cannon's loud thunder 
 
 The signal should give lor that Isle to be free. 
 But vainly she listen'd, no sound met her ear 
 
 But the wailing of woe and the sigh of distress ; 
 Wherever she looked there was misery's tear, 
 
 While she was unable that tear to repress. 
 At times, too, would come a short smothering cry,— 
 The death note of freedom in Tyranny's grasp,— 
 She'd haste to the rescue, alas, but to sigh 
 
 O'er the hold of the fiend she couldn't unclasp. 
 And oft did she float on her featliery pinions 
 
 To look for some mark of deliverance nigh, 
 And blush as she gazed upon Slavery's minions 
 Embracing his knees as they lay down to die. 
 Off, off to the land of the Red Branch she hurried,— 
 
 But useless the task,— what she sought was not there ; 
 'Mid the m^ ddering Castles of Ulster she tarried, 
 
 Then sped in her quest to the green hills of ^ 'lare ; 
 She wandered about through the plough-lands of Inoch,"* 
 
 And pensively strollei^ through the fields of Braenthree ; 
 For oft had she heard il\Q prediction of Cormoch,^ 
 
 That a blossom should bud on the Dalgassiar tree ; 
 Which, o'er the extent of the wave-girded Island, 
 
 Would send a sweet perfume on every gale, 
 That each moss cover'd dell, and each heath cover'd highland, 
 
 Should cli'ink of the odor, and fragrance exhale. 
 The Spirit's assertions she ceaselessly quoted, 
 
 Each word strongly proved what the prophecy told ; 
 Inunersed in her dreams she triumphantly gloated 
 
 On pictures such only as Hope may unfold. 
 But vain is her search, she must seek for a shoot 
 
 From the tree of the Dalgais ; but where will she go ? 
 She knows that the place she is in bears the root,— 
 
 But how fi]id the branch where the blossom shall blow ? 
 
12 
 
 THE spirit's lament; 
 
 Her wings became heavy, her ardor depressed, 
 
 As her search she pursued o'er Mononia's soil ; 
 And pitied their lot, as she saw the oppressed. 
 
 In mourning's habiliments, feigning a smile. 
 At last -she grew faint in her fruitless endeavour, 
 
 And view'd as a phantom the cause of her flight ; 
 The sky of her clime looked as gloomy as ev3r, 
 
 Its horizon robed in the darkness of night. 
 *Twas a sweet Summer's eve, she was gloomy, repining. 
 
 Her plumage was ruffled, its brightness was gone. 
 And those feathers of gold which at morn were shining 
 
 With hues everchanging, like gems in the sun, 
 ""ere wet with the dew drops which they had been drinking: 
 
 All nature was calm, and the winds were at rest, 
 The God of effulgence in ocean was sinking, 
 
 And kissing a farewell to all in the East. 
 For a time her eye droop'd in the softness of sadness. 
 
 For naught met her glance but the emblems of wo ; 
 She thought of past times, and the fierce ray of madness 
 
 Shot forth, while her features were tinged with the glow 
 Of shame, for the lot of her ward was appalling ; 
 
 Her laurels had wither'd, unhonor'd her name. 
 Her children reckless,— for what is more galling 
 
 Than serfdom to those who have revelled in fame. 
 No longer she sought to repress her emotion, 
 
 Tier bosom was heaving, and murmurings broke. 
 At first, from her lips, Uke the play of the ocean, 
 
 Disturb'd by the zephyrs, ere storms evoke 
 The fiends of the sea from their briny recesses, 
 
 To lash into fury the erst laughing main ; 
 What an emblem of life, as each billow caresses 
 
 Its mate, and then sinks in the waters again. 
 The murmurings ceased and her feelings gushed forth, 
 
 She uttered her plaints in the voice of despair, 
 So wild were her looks that the spirit of mirth 
 
 Affrighted would seek for some happier sphere 
 
 / 
 
 s 
 
 
^ 
 
 •1- " 
 
 OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 13 
 
 Thau that which the agonised guardian of Erin 
 
 Watch'd o'er, tho* its fruits and its flowers were dead, 
 
 To laugh not again in the Spring, while the tear in 
 liar eye told how keenly she felt what she said. 
 
 " Her glores are gone, 
 
 And the stranger is dwelling 
 In halls not his own ; 
 
 And the tempest is swelling, 
 The storm's around her. 
 
 No arm to save ; 
 And the demon who bound her 
 
 Aye points to her grave. 
 He gloats o'er the face 
 
 Of the victim he slays, 
 On his features no trace 
 Of compassion betrays 
 A hope for to-morrow, 
 Or rest for to-day ; 
 Will she thus live in sorrow. 
 
 Consuming away. 
 Nor struggle for life 
 
 While a chance still remains, 
 Nor seek in the strife 
 
 To escape from her chains ? 
 Oh, surely the thought 
 
 Of a happier day. 
 When her sons were unbought. 
 
 Nor had learn'd to betray, 
 Win cheer in the fight 
 
 For children and home. 
 When the cuirass* shines bright ^ 
 
 And the hollow guns boom ; 
 And the tide of their fathers 
 
 Will course thro' their veins. 
 Wlien the fierce struggle gathers 
 The hos's on the plains. 
 
l^ THE spirit's lament; 
 
 Are the conquests of Brian forgotten for ever ? 
 
 Have the fields of his glory been crimson'd in vain ; 
 Shall the evergreen bays of the conqueror never 
 
 Encircle with lustre her temples again ? 
 Oh, was it for cowards, whose treason's degrade her, 
 
 The grass of Clontarf was empurpled with blood 
 Of the Norseman who came here a pompous invader, 
 
 His navies were scattered, his armies subdued ? 
 And where is he now ? In the bosom of earth 
 He sleeps the long sleep, and his shout goes not forth ; 
 The slogan wild of his gathering men 
 Shall never arouse the chief again. 
 He leaped in his pride upon Ireland's shore, 
 But he never shall cross to his bleak land more ; 
 He rests by the side of his fav'rite sea, 
 The billows' roar his lullaby ; 
 His fancy disturbs not, his visions are fled, 
 And the warrior sleeps in his humble bed. 
 Well ! peace to his relics, for bravely he fought 
 For the prize which he aimed at, the object he sought ; 
 His pen was the sword, and his parchment the shield, 
 His court was the camp, and his senate the field. 
 He cloaked not Ids hate 'neath the treacherous smile, 
 He scorned to deal in hypocrisy's wile. 
 He never extended in friendship a hand, 
 While the other concealed 'neath his mantle the brand 
 To plunge in the heart of the trusting and brave. ^^ 
 No, the white flag unfurled, his motto was '' save. ' ' 
 The conquered he treated as serfs of the soil, 
 Their task was to labour, their portion was toil— 
 IJnmocked were their tears, tho' wherever the Dan6 
 
 Triumphani ui war «ao avc^ir^-T-- -o 
 
 Undisguised were his actions, and boldly he'd do 
 What the whim of his nature would bid him pursue. 
 He sought not to hide with the veil of disguise 
 
 / 1^ 
 
 His object, nor dealt in diplomacy s 
 
 lies 
 
OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 15 
 
 He formed no union 'twixt vassal and lord, 
 To laugh at the compact, and break his pledged word ; 
 Unversed in the arts of the moderns' schools, 
 He duped not the plundered, then je- ed them as fools ; 
 He kept what he won by the arm of might. 
 Nor ever deceptiously dared to indite 
 Agreements on parchment, respected so long 
 As the power of those who obeyed him was strong ; 
 Till the people-wrung gold of his cofFers could bribe 
 The su{)pliant lord and the temple-reared scribe, 
 To stir up the embers of discord and hate, 
 And urge to destruction the tottering state ; 
 Then tell them 'twas done for the commonwealth's good, 
 Tho' drowning the nation in rivers of blood. 
 Unskili'd in the slippery maze of the bar, 
 With the mode of man's worship, unused to wage war, 
 ^ I V, He never descended to make "Penal Laws," 
 
 Nor doom'd to imprisonment people because 
 They dared to pour forth to the God of their love 
 Tlie prayer which Heresy could not appro\ e. 
 He ne'er to Apostacy oftered a prize, 
 Nor rent with the malice of demons the ties 
 Which bound the affections of father to son. 
 Then boast of the hell-born deed he had done. 
 His subjects defenceless he never exiled. 
 Nor butchered the sire at the feet of his child ; 
 He never dishonor'd the maiden before 
 The face of her mother, nor pitiless bore 
 The joy of her heart to the bivouac fires, 
 Where the mother goes mad as her infant expires ; 
 Nor dead to compunction which savages feel, 
 Did he scewer the babe on tho point of tlie steel ; ^ 
 Nor laugh at the feelings of kindred, and make 
 The hand of the brother the brother's life take. ' 
 Or if ho demurv'd to the fratricide deed, 
 And scorned the threats of the wretch who de(Teo\i 
 unnatural sentence. 
 
■^Q THE spirit's lament ; 
 
 Whence dangled their bodies, in future would be 
 An ominous warning to those who would raise 
 \n arm or voice in humanity's praise. 
 Perchance it might be that the cot of their sire 
 Was on the estate of some priest-ridden squire, 
 Who, steeled to the beauties of Heresy's code, 
 \dhered to his creed, and abjured not his God. 
 'Tis a moment for bigots to vomit their spleen, 
 'Tis a tune for tbeir loyalty's truth to be seen, 
 That the world may learn how Protestant bands 
 Can murder the Papist on Romanists' lands. 
 The brothers were marched in derision before 
 The lawless procession, to die at the door 
 'Round which they had gamboll'd in earlier years. 
 Ere sorrow had open'd the fountain of tears : 
 No words have they spoken, no traces are there 
 Of regret for the past, and the tremor of fear 
 Shook not with its paky the victims of hate, 
 
 Like men did they suffer the patriots fate ; 
 No murmur was uttered, the death hour was nigh, 
 One look of contempt to the foe that was by ; 
 One prayer in secret— the struggle is o'er,— 
 The chain of the captive shall harass no more. 
 They've gone to the regions where grief is unknown. 
 While the father is sad, and the mother is lone. 
 
 Unenvied the lot 
 
 Of the broken-hearted. 
 
 By man forgot, 
 
 Their peace departed ; 
 Joy smiled on the day 
 
 When they knelt at the shrine, 
 And Hope lent a ray 
 
 Of her brightness divine, 
 The blessing was given, 
 
 The ceremony ceased. 
 They look'd up to Heaven : 
 
 / 1 s 
 
4 
 
 OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 V 
 
 / ^ s 
 
 i , 
 
 I 
 
 .I* Ti V 
 
 The feeKngs that bound them 
 
 For ever to each. 
 When virtue surrounds them 
 
 Can suffering reach 
 The radiance that brightens 
 
 The path of the good, 
 And cheerfully lightens 
 
 The gloom of life's road ? 
 Yes, bigotry's spell 
 
 Can break piety's charm, 
 No power can quell, 
 
 No hand can disarm 
 The schismatic's rage. 
 Or the fanatic's ire, 
 Nor pity assuage 
 
 The smouldering fire 
 That burns within 
 
 The intolerant heart ; 
 Like the heir-loom of sin 
 
 It will not depart 
 'Till it blazes on high, 
 
 While its votaries rave, 
 And the faintly-heaved sigh 
 
 Of the noble and brave 
 Is borne aloft 
 
 For mercy to those 
 Wretches who scoffed 
 
 At the dying one's throes. 
 But Justice is deaf 
 
 To what Mercy would ask ; 
 The Judgment is brief. 
 
 And the fiends who bask 
 In the sunshine of noon, 
 
 In the rainbow of bliss, 
 Will be hurl'd anon 
 To destruction's abyss. 
 
18 
 
 I 
 
 THE SPIRIT S LAMENT ; 
 
 No prayer must ascend, 
 
 And no bosom must grieve, 
 No tongue must commend, 
 
 And no \oice say " forgive. " 
 The vv^idow's curse, 
 
 And ihe orphan's tear, 
 And the father's corse 
 
 On a bloody bier, 
 Are a guilty proof 
 
 Of the bigot's life. 
 And the blazing roof. 
 
 And the gleaming knife. 
 He bends o'er his prey 
 
 With a demon's smile, 
 And no kindly ray 
 
 Of compassion the while 
 E'er beams m his eyes. 
 
 Nor soft drops flow. 
 He delights in the cries 
 
 Of his fallen foe; 
 He erects his throne 
 
 On a heap of sculls. 
 And the captive's groan 
 
 To slumber lulls. 
 He would gladly feed 
 
 With a brother's blood 
 His ravenous creed 
 
 And its reptile brood 
 Of hell-hound guards, 
 
 *'The Chosen Few ;/' 
 But Fate awards 
 
 A fearful doom 
 
 To him is given, 
 A fiery tomb 
 
 Prepared by Heaven. 
 
 ^ 
 
 \ 
 
 \ 
 
 V 
 
1 
 
 OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 19 
 
 \ 
 
 V. 
 
 Time hurried his car 
 
 Towards eternity's shore, 
 They heard from afar 
 
 The wind-borne roar 
 Of armies contending 
 In stubborn fight ; 
 Of the freeman defending 
 His country and right, 
 Of the autocrat seeking 
 
 A land to enthral, 
 Of the patriot breaking 
 The fetters that gall. ' 
 Earth echoed the strain 
 
 Of the recklessly brave 
 Who would sleep with the slain, 
 
 But would not be a slave, 
 Or worship the hand 
 
 That would burn his brow 
 With helotry's brand, 
 
 Or submissively bow 
 To a mushroom lord 
 
 Of yesterday's growth. 
 Without wielding a sword 
 In maintaining his oath. 
 Had Europe but given 
 Her aid to the weak, 
 His chain had been riven, 
 And Tyranny's shriek. 
 As he crawled to his den, 
 
 Would resound thro* the air ; 
 Each mountain and glen 
 
 Would re-echo the pray'r 
 Which the rescued pour'd forth 
 
 For the rescuer's weal. 
 Such pray'r has its birth 
 In gratitude's zeal. 
 
20 
 
 THE SPIRIT S LAMENT ; 
 
 The ai.gels look'd down 
 
 On such incense with joy, 
 When the virtues had flown 
 
 To their home in the sky ; 
 A pitying God 
 
 Left this brightest of ail, 
 And gratitude glowed 
 
 'Mid the funeral pail 
 Of guilt that enshrouded 
 
 The bosom of man, 
 And darklingly clouded 
 
 His life's narrow span. 
 But the madden'd hurra 
 
 Of the bellowing throng. 
 And the fierce array, 
 
 And triumphant song 
 Of the victor bounding 
 
 Cn his mettled horse, 
 Or the bugle sounding — 
 
 Or the mutter'd curse 
 Of the rebel flying 
 
 From the soldier band — 
 Of the soldier dying . 
 
 By the rebel's hand, — 
 Disturb'd not with fear 
 
 The fond father's heart ; 
 His lov'd boys were near. 
 
 From peril apart ; 
 He rested securely, 
 
 No danger could come — 
 He trusted too surely. 
 
 The neace of his home 
 Must soon disappear, 
 
 To be followed by woe; 
 And agony's tear 
 
 Unchecked ovf rflow. 
 
 V 
 
 \ 
 
 
 ^ 
 
OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 21 
 
 V 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 The sorrowing wife 
 
 Will shriek in despair, 
 As the heralds of strife 
 
 Her children bear 
 To a tragical end ; 
 
 And the grief-stricken sire 
 To Heaven will send, 
 
 As the victims expire. 
 Such curses of hate, 
 
 That the Angelic Host 
 With wonder await, 
 
 In astonishment lost, 
 The Dread One's decree. 
 
 But Charity pleads 
 With uplifted hands, 
 
 For a bosom that bleeds : 
 The withering stain 
 
 Of Mortality 's on him, 
 The rusting chain 
 
 Of sin is upon him ; 
 A life of sorrow 
 
 Will erase his crime ; 
 The dawning morrow. 
 
 The eve-bell's chime, 
 Shall witness his sighs 
 
 For pardon ascending, 
 While the wing'd of the skies. 
 
 In radiance descending, 
 Shall breathe in his ear 
 
 The whisper of love, 
 And kiss off the tear 
 
 That has nleaded abovr. 
 
 But wo to the hands 
 
 Steep'd in innocent blood, 
 When the murderer stands 
 
 At the bar of his God." 
 
22 
 
 THE SPIRIT 8 LAMENT ; 
 
 I 1^ 
 
 In ages gone by, suoli a harrowing scene 
 
 Of cruelty tracked not the steps of the Dane ; 
 
 In the contest of battle his bravery shone — 
 
 In the battle's plough'd field he was cruel alone. 
 
 lie warr'd not with women — the soul-siok'iiing screiam 
 
 Of the child did not follow his scimitar's gleam. 
 
 The danger he shunn'd not — the enemy's van 
 
 Was the place which he sought, where the red torrent lan ; 
 
 Where the victor ard vanquish'd commingle their cries, 
 
 While the raven aloft o'er the charnel-house flies. 
 
 lie asked not the nation ho conquered to kneel 
 
 On the steps that were raised by the edge of the sttxi, 
 
 Where the ministers list'ning to misery's groans, 
 
 Having gnawed off the flesh suck at poverty's bono5. 
 
 lie linked not the mitre by bonds to the crown, 
 
 Thus hiring a Church that would freely disown 
 
 The birth of a Savioui — acknowledge no God — . 
 
 And Heaven insult a' thv^ diadem's nod. 
 
 Its temple was reared upon carnage and strife, 
 
 Its sculpture was carved with the point of the knife ; 
 
 While even the hands of its priests were imbued — 
 
 Ay, up to the elbows — in Catholic blood. 
 
 And if it was found that a member among 
 
 The intolerant rabble complained of the wrong, 
 
 He was surely despised as a weak liijarted fool, 
 
 Unfit to obey, and unable to rule 
 
 The man that was cursed with a liberal mind 
 
 Was a renegade deem'd by the rest of his kind ; 
 
 " He wanted the nerve to distribute the laws " — 
 
 " Such scruples might peril the Protestant cause ; "' 
 
 And banished from office, excluded from rank, 
 
 In the glass of opinion tj Zero he sank. 
 
 If th' ablest statesman presumed to dissent 
 
 From stat\ites of penalties, soon was the vent 
 
 Of calumny opened, and ribaldry's lees 
 
 Eicaped from the veosels, and covered his knees. 
 
 v 
 
 / 
 
 \ 
 
 "^ 
 
OR, THE WRONGS' OF IRELAND. 
 
 23 
 
 an ; 
 
 V, 
 
 IViSUited, reviled, he was groaned from his place, 
 
 He tied to retire*nent in shame and disgrace ; 
 
 While the very same shout that announced his defeat, 
 
 \\^as proffered as incense his rival to gieet. 
 
 The man who would circle his land with the beams 
 
 Oi happiness, hears nought but hisses and screams ; 
 
 While he who would plunge it in choos again, 
 
 Is hailed by a party the greatest of men. 
 
 They seat him on high in the rich currulo chair, 
 
 And the pseans of prejudice float on the air ; 
 
 The strains of the fanatic sweep from the lyre. 
 
 As Ascendancy forges his fetters of fire. 
 
 The law that connected the Church with the State. 
 
 By its harshness will hasten that Church to a fato 
 
 Which its fallen defenders wil^ weeping deplore, 
 
 When its dome is in dust, and its creed is no more ; 
 
 That union unholy will shatter the base 
 
 O^ the temple 'twas meant to preserve ; and a trace 
 
 Of even its ruins they'll look for in vain. 
 
 When its rival shaU flourish in splendor again. 
 
 Christianity's self is disturbed by the shock ; 
 
 Ere this 'twould have sunk but 'twas built on a rock. 
 
 This alliance adulterous aims at the core 
 
 Of Fidelity's heart, and will haply do more 
 
 To sap the foundations of Religion's fane 
 
 Than the venom of Palmer — the ravings of Paine. 
 
 Was religion founded to form a bed 
 
 For influence courtly, or Midingly lead 
 
 On the top of its watere j gently they flowed, 
 
 The wealth-seeking mariner on to the road 
 
 Where honors and riches profusely abound ? 
 
 Where the goal once attained acclamations resound 
 
 In praise of the merchant who gave them the means 
 
 To wander at will through the Church's domains ; 
 
 Nor do they forget to drink health to the name 
 
 Of the ship .liat conveyed them to fortune and fame. 
 
! 
 
 cy^ TUB spirit's lament; 
 
 At the thue that the Saviour committed his cree^i 
 
 f 1 ;« r^a^tors he wished that the seed 
 To the care of his pastors, ne wisi v. 
 
 Of meekness should fall on the bosom of man, 
 And Charity gather the ear-droopmg grain ; 
 Ho left it a gift for humanity's weal,- 
 He j^ave it a balm not to hurt but to heal. 
 With the sweets of aflection and virtue imbued, 
 'Twas meant to associate, not to seclude-- 
 \ll colors and climes in the world to bring 
 'Neath the hallowing shade of its ^P^tless win^^^^ 
 The statute connecting the Church and the State 
 Was mooted by Malice himself to create ^ 
 Dismay in the land where its dread tocsm knells, 
 
 A monster then rose amid atheist yells ; 
 
 In Hvpocrisy's womb he was fouily conceived, 
 
 When Rapine and Murder in rivalry raevd;^ 
 'Mid the death groans of Piety first he had birh, 
 
 When Carnage encompassed the bosom of earth , 
 
 His food is the sufferer's mangled flesh. 
 That flies in flakes at oach blow of the lash. 
 
 If the sinking one ask, with a gasping scream, 
 
 For water, he points to the vital stream 
 
 .^s it wells in a flood from each quivering vem, 
 
 While k heart-strings crack, and the eyeballs straui, 
 
 \nd no draperied shroud the clay enwraps- 
 
 The hawk may feed on the carrion corpse. 
 
 His sweetest drink is the widow's tear. 
 
 As it trickles down on a husband's bier. 
 
 Th' inhuman taste shows the monster's kin, 
 
 In crime brought forth, and begot in sr^ ; 
 
 Such drops might the thirst of a demon^quell^ 
 nVere a fitting draught for the imps oi ueh. 
 He banquets not without music's charms, 
 
 The sweet sounds flow and his spirit warms. 
 Like flowers that ope in the shadowy night. 
 But turn with loathing away from the light,— 
 
 *s 
 
 
 / 
 
 ,' HV 
 
OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAyD. 
 
 25 
 
 'M 
 
 Exhaling their perfume when daylight is gone, 
 
 But scentless and dead in the brightness of noon. 
 
 The softest note that breaks on his ear 
 
 Is the tremulous accent of grief and fear ; 
 
 The orphan's sob for a tortured sire, 
 
 As he sees the being he loved expire 
 
 'Mid the senseless sliout of perverted applause, 
 
 One sacrifice more to the Penal Laws 
 
 Is the joyful chord tliat thrills through his frame, 
 
 With the ecstatic bliss of unearthly flame. 
 
 In that moment he cares not for crosier or tlirone, 
 
 He's imparadised then in the orphan's groan. 
 
 This connexion is but an incestuous tie, 
 
 Polluting with earth heaven's purity. 
 
 Converting the cross to a ladder, whereby 
 
 The ad\enturer reaches aloft to the skv 
 
 Of rank— and the tower of ambition attained, 
 
 He scotis at the means by whose help he has gained 
 
 The object he look'd for, and, pinnacled, views 
 
 Tlie wants and the cares of the tvorld's refuse 
 
 Witli a feeling of scorn, for why should ho heed 
 
 If hundreds should starve, and if thousands should bl 
 
 The cottier distressed brings no pang to his heart, 
 
 No sympathy lias he for misery's smart ; 
 
 The hopelessness seen on the mother's pale face. 
 
 As the rivulets down through the deep furrows trm-e 
 
 Their course of despondency, i)leads there in vain ; 
 
 He's lost to all pity, he's steeled to the pain 
 
 Which the cries of her children, suing for bread, 
 
 Inflict on tlie bosom that hears them with dread ; 
 
 Regardless he views her thrown out from that home 
 
 Wliore Mhe tasted of peace, if not pleasure, to roam, 
 
 Unslielter'd, in tatters, the harsh world's scorn. 
 
 Far away from the scene where that beggar was born 
 
 Ashamed to receive, from the hand she had grasj/d 
 
 Witli tlie hold of afieetion— the being she clasp'd 
 
 .ee( 
 
20 
 
 THE SPIRITS lament; 
 
 J 
 
 In the glow of her childhood, when fancy beamed bright^ 
 
 And hope intermingled its blossoms of light. 
 
 The alms which she gets from some kind passer-by, 
 
 While she thinks of the cottage she left with a sigh^ 
 
 Untouched are his feelings, tho* v" owing the lot 
 
 Of the grandfather, writhing in agony, brought 
 
 From his pallet of pain and of sickness to lie 
 
 On the shelterless moor, by the snowbank to die — 
 
 The howl of the tempest, the roar of the storm, 
 
 Chaunting the dirge o'er his shivering form — 
 
 While the patriarch asks, ere his spirit takes wing, 
 
 For mercy to those who could sufiering bring 
 
 On him and on his — ^but he only pursued 
 
 The precepts a Saviour had sealed with his blood. 
 
 But why should the troubles, the ills of the poor, 
 
 Those base-bom hinds, cast their deep shadow o'er 
 
 The face of the rector, whose beauteous domain? 
 
 Must not suffer the loss of a tree, and whose plains 
 
 Must wave with the yellow-eared corn, if dearth 
 
 And ruin alight on the rest of the earth. 
 
 The God who bequeathed the Christian his creed 
 
 Untainted, undimm'd, from anomalies freed. 
 
 Intended the hand of its vriest to be pure 
 
 As the water that runs in transparency o'er 
 
 Its chrysolite bed, in some fabulous clime, 
 
 Untinged by the dross, and unstained by the slime 
 
 Of mortality's faults — and its pastors to be, 
 
 As the vestments they're robed in, from blemishes free ; 
 
 tJnpoUuted its chalice by gluttony's touch, 
 
 The fingers of Lust should not even approach 
 
 The vessel that holds in its bosom the wine 
 
 J 
 
 Tl.«+ 
 
 i>itr£ka in nrrvi* rrx xxTrx^ 
 
 nil r\^ 
 
 fm «t »• «**• « 1 /^ V ^V f«* a 
 
 0-- T- 
 
 *B"^ vvj- TT i_tiitiic;^Cj aiJU. viituij i,\j Biii. 
 
 The trappings of rank with their glitter disgrace- 
 Sublunary pomp and its splendor debase 
 His church, who, portraying humility, brought 
 His teachers to serve from the fisherman's boat : 
 
 
 
i 
 
 OR, "HE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 21 
 
 ht. 
 
 J 
 
 "v 
 
 
 I I 
 
 Who, holding the empire of heaven and earth. 
 
 To atone for man, took from the manger His birth ; 
 
 Who humbled Himself to the death of the Cross, 
 
 To give to his followers endless repose. 
 
 He meant not His minister bloated with pride. 
 
 On the carcase of poverty whooping to ride, 
 
 While calmly he looks with a smile of disdain, 
 
 As the trampled endeavours to rise up again, 
 
 And list'ning unmoved to the fallen one's wail, 
 
 He mutters in anger, those cursed canaille. 
 
 Oh, ever unpensioned should Religion be, 
 
 Uncrouching to Power, and unbending the knee 
 
 To the whispers of Lords, and the wishes of Kings, 
 
 When the chamber of audience with revelry rings. 
 
 As they ask for her sanction to perfidy's bond, 
 
 To prey on the weak, and to harass the wrong*d ; 
 
 She should steal from the earth, but it should be its wo, 
 
 And leave naught behind but prosperity's glow ; 
 
 While hymns of thanksgiving for misery gone 
 
 Should rise on the gale to the Heavenly throne. 
 
 Tis piteous to see her, a mendicant, stand 
 
 At the gate of the Castle, extending her hand 
 
 For the wages of infamy — selling her soul — 
 
 While horrible blasphemies volubly roll 
 
 From her lips at the purchaser's stern command. 
 
 As she clutches the bayonet, and raises the brand. 
 
 How fawning she looks at the levee's array, 
 
 As, servilely stooping, she sidles her way 
 
 Through the glittering throng of the courtiers, to pour 
 
 The unction of praise on the lord of the hour, 
 
 When a visible smile on her features is seen. 
 
 For the Marnuia Ima rk»«rk»niQ£»rl *V.rt »n*^1r ^f « T\^«». .. 
 
 - ... . 1^^-- -.-iiii:::-.-^ visv 1. iillli. V/X O, JL7t;<«IX , 
 
 The manual's pages no longer are read, 
 The leaves of the red-book must answer instead, 
 The pension list laughs at the liturgy's lines, 
 And hope in the blaze of a bishopric shines, 
 
r 
 
 u'- 
 
 28 
 
 THE spirit's lament J 
 
 The truths of the Bible are fiction and pall, 
 
 Tlie will of the King must be gospel and all ; 
 
 The man who despises the words of the Lord, 
 
 Yet for proselytes seeks at the point of the sword, 
 
 Tho* his temple be empty, his followers few, 
 
 And most of the number are worshippers thro' 
 
 The motives of interest solely, must get 
 
 The costliest luxuries— millions must sweat 
 
 And toil for his ease, tho' they wither in want, 
 
 While their ears are assail'd with the orthodox cant,— 
 
 •■ For the glory of England this tribute you give, 
 
 Her greatness depenc' s on the tithes, nor believe 
 
 The blustering demagogue's lying report. 
 
 That the empire of Britain could ever support 
 
 Her old reputation, unaided by those 
 
 Whose sanctity over the commonwealth throws 
 
 A radiance so bright, that each bordering clime. 
 
 Amazed at a splendor so pu \ so sublime, 
 
 Despairs of enjoying efFulge. -e so great, 
 
 And mutters in envy ' The Church and the State. 
 
 (3h, trust me, the Rectors and Bishops alone 
 
 Are the guardians that watch o'er the people and thron. 
 
 Ay, raise up a palace to flatter the pride 
 
 Of the pampered official of greatness, let wide, 
 
 Majestic plantations encircle the halls 
 
 Where the high elm tow'rs, and the sad willow falls 
 
 With a motion of gracefulness, fitting retreat 
 
 For the man in whom meekness and charity meet. 
 
 Forget not the precious preserves, let them be 
 
 WgU stocked with the woodcock, let ev^ tree 
 
 Uo Irving with game, that the Manton well skilled 
 
 May boast of the number of pheasants it killed ; 
 
 Lot an aviary's music add beauty and grace 
 
 Where the rarest of Afric's and Ind's wing'd race 
 
 Exliibit to ladies the brightest of plumes, 
 
 While the ladies exhale of the richest perfumes ; 
 
 >f 
 
OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 29 
 
 m 
 
 )) 
 
 "V 
 
 Where the bird of the sun in captivity flies, 
 
 And the parrot disports in its emerald dyes ; 
 
 Let zoology's garden with wonder be stor'd, 
 
 Where the chattering monkey may mimic his lord ; 
 
 What •-. -vel ? his owner 's a mimic at best. 
 
 In tb 'oi. '-flowing toga of religion drest 
 
 He preaches of charity, shudders at «in. 
 
 Yet the embers of avarice burn within ; 
 
 Let the pond's glassy bosom be filled with such tisii 
 
 As the palates of epicures only may wish — ' 
 
 For a bishop should never regale on the food 
 
 That is served at the board of the plebeian brood ; 
 
 Add a library, stocked with those writings alone 
 
 Which treat of the bonds 'tween the Church and the Thron*^ ; 
 
 Allow not a liberal pamphlet therein — 
 
 Such impious sacrilege surely would win 
 
 The imp of decay to those towering walls, — 
 
 Such a work must not f^ter the palace's halls; 
 
 All radical rant must the Churchman eschew — 
 
 Such ribaldry shocks th' evangelical crew ; 
 
 A billiard room also for visitors adtl, 
 
 To amuse them when lively, and soothe them when sad, 
 
 Relaxation is sweet to the laboring mind. 
 
 And the cue and the balls are as good as they'll tind : 
 
 What sport is so meet for a spirit that's bold, 
 
 *Tis a game in which prelates may gamble their gt^M : 
 
 Let Rubens and Vandyke his gallery deck, 
 
 And the portrait of Reynolds, just :oeming to speiik, 
 
 Astonish his guests ; let tlie pencil of Claude, 
 
 Depicting with touches of magic the broad 
 
 Soft skies of his country in triumph, be seen — 
 
 Such a painting might hallow the Court of a Queen ; 
 
 Let the art of the sculptor adorn his rooms, 
 
 Displaying the growth of the rich Arras looms ; 
 
 Let the precious and costly productions of Dresden, 
 
 And the life-breathing works of undying Thorwalsdei?, 
 
30 
 
 THE spirit's lament ; 
 
 Impart their attractions to dazzle the proud, 
 
 Unable to vent their amazement aloud ; 
 
 Let salons for dancing be made in the wing, 
 
 Where the delicate fops in the evening may bring 
 
 Their beautiful partiiers, and whirl around 
 
 In the maze of the dance, while the eddying ground 
 
 Is swimming around them, and laughing blue eyes, 
 
 And cheeks changing color, and deeply drawn sighs, 
 
 Tell the varying feelings that prey on the crowd ; 
 
 Some tvhisper of love, and some chatter aloud, 
 
 'Till the bishop conveys to the band his high will, 
 
 That they play for the dancers the newest quadrille. 
 
 E'en lovers then drop the low murmuring voice, 
 
 And glide o'er the floor with the one of their choice, 
 
 For the owner himself of tlwse reveling halls 
 
 In ecstacy joins with the young bacchanals, 
 
 And the gayest admirer Terpsicore boasts 
 
 Is this best of all bishops — this first of all hosts. 
 
 Should the dowager duchesses look too demure, 
 
 " With the ladies permission, he begs to assure 
 
 Their high-born graces, that nothing can give 
 
 Its tone to a mind that has reason to grieve 
 
 So soon as a waltz or some innocent dance. 
 
 When no word moves the lip, and no eye looks askance. 
 
 He tells them " whenever his nerves are not strong 
 
 Their jarring is soothed by laughter L.id song ; 
 
 Whenever his mind is desponding, and care, 
 
 Th* attendant of onerous duties, is there, 
 
 He seeks for a balm in the sounds of the lyre. 
 
 When the symptoms of ennui directly expire." 
 
 But those onermts duties he speaks of are those 
 
 Which iiis walks round his premises daily disclose : 
 
 He visit-s his kennel, exhibits his stud^ 
 
 And thus is he occupied practising good ; 
 
 Or haply he hears, afar off, the loud cheer, 
 
 Which calls him to start to tlhe chase of the deer — 
 
 I 
 
 y 
 
OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 in 
 
 I 
 
 y 
 
 \. 
 
 But he cannot at present, the chase he*ll decline, 
 
 There are puritans with him who think it a sin 
 
 For a man like his lordship to follow the track 
 
 Of the deer or the fox — a true methodist pack 
 
 Who, 'neath sanctity's garment, securely conceal 
 
 The crimes which the hypocrites dare not reveal ; 
 
 He'll keep their esteem, so he bows to his fate, 
 
 Tho' the hounds, in their fleetness, are passing his gate ; 
 
 Or, haply, attending those duties, he hears 
 
 The case of some tenant who fell in arrears — 
 
 The land he must have, or the rent must be paid, 
 
 Too long has the rascal the payment delay'd ; 
 
 The poor man approaches — the long furrowed lines 
 
 Speak suffering's visits — ^he meekly begins 
 
 To tell of his losses, to count o'er his ills, 
 
 While memory, pointing to misery, fills 
 
 His eloquent eye with the salt tear of wo — 
 
 But vainly the fountains of sorrow o'erflow, 
 
 Compassion can sway not that preiatic mind. 
 
 His pleadings for pity are told to the wind — 
 
 His wifo is in travail — he heeds not her pain, 
 
 Tho' fever'd, in want, on a couch she has lain 
 
 Thro' long weeks of torture, — no longer she'll lie, 
 
 Let him take her at once to some cottage close by, 
 
 Some friend may allow her to rest on a bed, 
 
 Some soft-hearted neighbour may pillow her head 
 
 Let them seek for relief from relations, or go 
 To the workhouse together, for surely they know 
 That a gentleman finds other use for his gold 
 Than feeding the hungry, or helping the old ; 
 How could he support such a numerous suite — 
 Extensive establishments how could he meet. 
 Could he give to the gentry such sumptuous balls. 
 Could he settle with cash all his numerous calls. 
 Could he lose on the Derby, at Epsom, or run 
 His favorite high-blooded racer upon 
 
32 
 
 THE spirit's lament t 
 
 The course at St. Leger's, unless he obtained 
 
 To the moment, and farthing, the rents of his land ? 
 
 The order is given, the agent is told 
 
 The course he must follow — all, all must be sold, 
 
 Ay, unto the sheet that envelopes the wife — 
 
 No matter — what is she ? — a peasant ; her life 
 
 Must a sacrifice be on cupidity's shrine, 
 
 And the idol delights in the honors divine. 
 
 The tool of corruption his malice allayed, 
 
 The ciiattels all sold, and the payments all made, 
 
 Retires to his service of crystal and plate, 
 
 Where liveried lacquies attending await — 
 
 Then goes to the dancing pavillion to speak 
 
 Of the tear of distress he has brushed from the cheek 
 
 Of the victim of poverty ; eager they haste 
 
 To list, as he tells about misery chased 
 
 By his hand of benevolence, chuckling the while 
 
 At the folly of those whom his statements beguile. 
 
 " The man who assuages b's brethren's woes 
 
 May be surely allowed to commingle with those 
 
 Whose laugh is of lightness, and join in the song, 
 
 When nothing but purity flows from the tongue." 
 
 Their Graces incline with a nod of assent. 
 
 And think that his reasons should flourish in print ; 
 
 I^et bowers and grottos adorn his lawns. 
 
 And over his parks bound the timorous fawns, — 
 
 I^et fountains their waters fling high in the air, — 
 
 Neglect not to build a neat chapel for pray'r, 
 
 'Tis fit it bo there, though it never were used. 
 
 Let the bible be seen tho* it be not perused — 
 
 Let a clerk too be got that will duly reply 
 
 When the service commences- -but when will that be ?- 
 
 Let a chaplain be hired with a sanctified look, 
 
 Who studies Madeira much more than his book. 
 
 Who seizes the dice with a connoisseur's hand, 
 
 And snuffs out a candle at word of command. 
 
 • 
 
 V 
 
OK, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 33 
 
 1 
 
 
 y 
 
 V 
 
 A disciple of poaco, he can handle the gun, 
 
 Tiie duel can boast him its favorite son ; 
 
 The racket court counts him its steadiest slave, 
 
 His chosen companions the gambler and knave ; 
 
 In the cockpit he prided in fitting the spurs, 
 
 At college was known as the backer of curs ; 
 
 Roulette is the game of his choice, and thereon 
 
 He would stake what he has on tlie chance of the " Grown ;" 
 
 He has basked in the sunshine of life for a while, 
 
 H(3 fluttered when young in the quick-changing smilo 
 
 Of Fortune, but since he has borne her frown. 
 
 And lived how he could as a "man about town ; " 
 
 He'll suit the caprices and whims of the great. 
 
 And talk of the link3 'tween the Cliurch and the State ; 
 
 He'll blend with their feelings and humor their ways, 
 
 And speak of his reverend master with praise ; 
 
 lie's just what is wanted, a man who has known 
 
 The whimsical changes of life by his own ; 
 
 Then get Ir^ this chaplain, don't mind tho' he rake, 
 
 For have him he must for appearances sake. 
 
 What wonder Hypocrisy laughs at his dupes ? 
 
 What wonder if Tyramiy riots and whoops 
 
 In the madness of joy at continued success ? 
 
 When his victims encircle his footstool to bless 
 
 The monster who rides on the necks of the poor — 
 
 The idol whose altar is deluged with gore. 
 
 How great must Ascendancy's appetite be. 
 
 Unsatisfied still, tho' all sects are his prey — 
 
 Tho' the peasant, who's starving, must give what he earns 
 
 To a church he contemns — to a parson he spurns. 
 
 In the Swless lust 
 
 Of the great on earth, 
 
 On Virtue's dust 
 
 That Church had birth ; — 
 
 The abbey's lands. 
 
 Which served the poor, 
 
34 
 
 THE spirit's lament; 
 
 By a King's commands 
 
 Were given o'er 
 To a ruthless host 
 
 Of swindling knaves, 
 To feeling lost — 
 
 A Monarch's slaves. 
 That Church was reared 
 
 On Pity's corse. 
 By those who feared 
 
 No human curse ; 
 No, not the hatt 
 
 Of an angry God, 
 Or the frightful fate 
 
 Of Hell's abode ;— 
 The pioits lord 
 
 On England's throne, 
 So much abhorr'd 
 
 To live >vith one 
 Who once had shared 
 
 His brother's bed, 
 He greatly feared 
 
 Some awful, dread, 
 And darksome end 
 
 Would be his fate ; 
 Such visions tend 
 
 To dissipate 
 His peace of mind, 
 
 He therefore prays 
 The Pope to fiiiu 
 
 Some way to ease 
 His conscience scared. 
 
 His soul oppresbod ; 
 The Conclave heard 
 
 What he expressed. 
 But would not grant 
 
 What he desired,— 
 
 \ 
 
 V 
 
\ 
 
 V 
 
 OR, THE WRONGS O? IIIELAND. 
 
 Such specious cant 
 
 His bosom fired. 
 Rome would not own 
 
 A harlot's right 
 To England's throne ; 
 
 That sceptre bright 
 Should never guard 
 
 Adultery's bed — 
 Rome's last award 
 
 Was not to wed- 
 Then anger seized 
 
 On passion's breast, 
 And self-love praised, 
 
 Pride <iid the rest. 
 His gracious Queen 
 
 Was made the mark 
 For venal spleen, 
 
 For malice dark — 
 A wanton's charms 
 
 Must be carest 
 Within his arms. 
 
 Upon his breast 
 The nymph must dwell, 
 
 His fancied fair. 
 To whom he'll kneel 
 
 In warm pray'r ; 
 Anne he must have 
 
 In spite of all, 
 Or Romish slave, 
 
 Or Popish thrall ; 
 He does not heed 
 
 From fetters freed 
 
 Himself will be. 
 The Church's Head, 
 
 The Bible's Li^ht, 
 
 35 
 
! 
 
 36 
 
 THE SPIRIT S LAMENT ; 
 
 His holy creed 
 
 Will grant tl'e right; 
 
 A King may claim 
 Whatever ho please 
 
 From those whom ♦Shame 
 Has raised to Sees. 
 \Vhat means shall he try to obtain wh-'t he seelvs, 
 Ere he gains what he looks for ? The heart-rending shrieks 
 Of the pious and good shall resound thro' tlie land, 
 The musket and sabre, the dagger and brand 
 Will contribute their aid to supremacy's cause ; 
 Confiscation shall furnish his merciless laws, 
 The i>riory*s cellars must now be unstored, 
 He'll be Head of the Church by the force of the sword, 
 Tiic monastery's rents, which had alwavs relieved 
 The traveller's wants, the distressed, the berea\'ed, 
 Must to infamy's iXgents hereafter be given, 
 Tlie lionds of affection henceforward be riven, 
 And wretchedness weep unprotected, forlorn, 
 Contemn'd by the bad, infidelity's scorn. 
 The laws which related to tithes as they were 
 Must be changed from their purport to tithes as they are ; 
 But what shall he do for a complaisant priest. 
 Whose nature is plastic — some humanised beast — 
 Who'll cringingly crouch at the autocrat's knees. 
 And grant a divorce, or whatever he please ? 
 With th scent of a bloodhound he tracks out his game, 
 Fit tool for a tyrant, and Cranmer his name; 
 Without reputation, a miscreant vile, 
 Whose life was one scene of corruption — whose smile 
 But boded destruction — concupiscence blazed 
 'Round the form which infamy's genius had raised. 
 To religion dead, to concubinage given, 
 His hope was of earth, he had lost all of Heaven. 
 In Canterb'ry*s See now w^as Cranmer install'd. 
 From wdiieh was its rightful archbishop recall'*}, 
 
 J 
 
 # 
 
OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 37 
 
 ks 
 
 Tho' none but Satanas himself could reveal 
 
 His tenets or belief, yet the Sovereign's will 
 
 Dubbed him Protestant bishop — what contrast was ho ' 
 
 To him '' who first held that Episcopal See ? 
 
 'Round the last coruscated religion's beams, 
 
 'Round the first flickered luridly heresy's flames. 
 
 A spiritual court was at Dunstable held, 
 
 Fion. which were excluded the priests who rebelled 
 
 * Gainst the monarch's supremacy : Henry's Queen 
 
 Was cited to come to the court of these men — 
 
 Hrr doom was prejudged, but the requisite form 
 
 Was gone thro*, and meekly she bent to the storm. 
 
 And Arragon's child, by the sentence divorced, 
 
 Was no longer the wife of a husband accursed. 
 
 Before this decree h^ had married Boleyn, 
 
 Thus recklessly branding her name with the stain 
 
 Of Adultery's vilene:3. All trammels are rent, 
 
 The clergy are lihed, and the nobles consent, 
 
 But still was the Pope thought the Church's true Head, 
 
 And now w usurp the dominion instead, 
 
 Some national faith must be formed — to bring 
 
 The empire to join was the aim of the King. 
 
 Tlie thing was resolved on, and just at the time 
 
 Came Luther and Company's doctrine sublime, 
 
 'Tis seized with avidity — obstacles fly 
 
 As if by a spell — the " No T>opery " cry 
 
 Is raised by the voices of Harry and Tom ; 
 
 How grandly those shouts of " No Popery " boom— 
 
 'Tis their followers' war-cry from that day to this, 
 
 "No Popery " bears them to realms of bliss. 
 
 The King has pronounced it the faith of the land, 
 
 His words are a law, at the patron's command 
 
 The servants of power, from immaculate Tom 
 
 To the scullion and footman, in multitudes come 
 
 To kiss but the robe of the prophet, and see 
 
 The man who made England contented and free ! 
 
38 
 
 THE SPIUIT's LAMENf; 
 
 ) 
 
 jiis Majesty glows with celestial fire, 
 
 He breathes in their nostrils, and, lo, they respif r 
 
 Of Virtue's aroma, report goes abroad 
 
 That the Protestant King has his mission from Got* 
 
 The nunneries, monasteries, abbeys, and all 
 
 "iw, houses of Gatholic worship must fall, 
 
 And the inmates, whose days in benevolence flowed. 
 
 To the whim of a bloody intolerance bowed ; 
 
 Their incomes were given to Rapine, at best, 
 
 To a creed that was born of Anger, carest 
 
 By the hand of Destruction, and rocked to the cries- 
 
 Of Mercy commingling with Piety's sighs ; 
 
 He gave all the tithes to the imstoral herd.— 
 
 The former incumbents had but the one-third. 
 
 In the reign of his daughter Elizabeth pure, 
 
 When numberless grievances weighed oA the pooi< 
 
 When wild Revolution was threatening to break 
 
 Thro' Tyranny's bulwarks — to keep it in check 
 
 A law was enacted to help the distress'd. 
 
 Whom tribute and taxes and plunder oppressed,-— 
 
 The first of the kind, for in Catholic times 
 
 Want never caused the commission of crimes ; 
 
 What a substitute that for the minist'ring hand 
 
 Of goodness and kindness— how changed is the land ? 
 
 Now Poverty reigns on Britannia's shore. 
 
 Where plenty and cheerfulness flourished before. 
 
 In the days of the abbeys distress was unknown, 
 
 Starvation's now common in country and town ; 
 
 Each Monarch succeeding improved in the trade 
 
 Of rapine and robbery ; laymen were made 
 
 Tithe iniproprietors--th' income was given 
 
 To men who professed not to lead men to Heaven. 
 
 From the rock whore I sit lot me run my eye o'er 
 
 The expanse of waters to Albion's shore : 
 
 in that country, which boasts constitution and laws, 
 
 I can see, as in Ireland, the source and the cause 
 
 I 
 
 \ 
 
 i 
 
 V, 
 
OR, THE WRONGS OF IRFLAND. 
 
 39 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 f 
 
 Of tumult and discord, and poverty too, 
 Tlie tithes as tltey are she has reason to rue. 
 ' And now as I look upon Devonshire's fields, 
 How many a parish its revenue yields 
 In tithes to the layman ? — there's Gifford for one,* 
 Whose surface extensive no church is upon ; 
 A part of it once was a banker's estate, 
 
 \ Who sold all its tithes to a Captain, of late — 
 A Man of War's Captain — it may be that tit}ie!< 
 Will decimate Frenchmen like bayonets or scytlies. 
 To St. Char' os's v^car belongs all the rest, 
 Who in Plymouth resides, and who preaches with zest 
 Of th' ancient origin of tithes, but still he 
 Converts not these dues to the purpose which they 
 At first were intended for, yet what is more, 
 Tho' living at ease on tlie spoils of the poor, 
 He has never attended at marriage or death 
 In Gilford, since ever he first drew his breath. 
 There's Brenton^ another, near Tavistock lair, 
 To Bedford's proud Duke are the tithes given there, 
 Who pays to a parson a trifle to speak 
 Some words on a Sunday, but once in the week. 
 Look there at St Thomas,^*^ near Exeter's gates. 
 Five thousand on tithes from those princely estates 
 Are enjoyed by their owner, who well may atiord 
 A parson to pay, for explaining " the word. " 
 Look yonder at Saltram,^^ there Morley delights 
 
 "•' In luxuries purchased by Plympton's rich titlies. 
 But why do I dwell on a pitiful few 
 Cases of lawless injustice? when through 
 The breadth of the land is eternallv heard 
 The shout of the tithe-proctor, hated and f^'arcd. ^^ 
 If England will sutler this evil to prey 
 On her innermost vitals, unmurmuring pay 
 To some layman of wealth what was meant for distijosii; 
 J>et Ireland despair of obtaining redress ; 
 
40 
 
 THE SPIRIT S LAMENT ; 
 
 If she tliinks it useless to utter a plaint — 
 
 If th' Englishman thinks 'twould be ho[)eless to paint 
 
 Th' iniquitous evil, let Ireland resign 
 
 Herself to her lot, and in secret repine ; 
 
 Whenever she dared but to utter her wrongs 
 
 In tho ears of the autocrat, raillery's songs 
 
 Drowned the voice 2 remonstrance, she alwavs retired 
 
 Unheard, and her hopes for the future expired. — 
 
 Shall the ghost of O'Rourk, for his country rephiing. 
 
 For ever roam over the hills of his land, 
 Nor hail the bright sunbeam of liberty shining 
 
 Unclouded once more on Hibernia's strand ? 
 Shall the chieftain of BrefFni thus wander for ever, 
 
 No peace to descend on his wo-laden breast, 
 For the ill-fated victim of treachery iiever 
 
 Can hope to partake of tranquility's rest 
 'Till his paralysed country awake from her slumber, 
 
 And gennn'd in her own native glories appear 
 As of old, and unshackled by bonds that encumber, 
 
 Unfit for the limbs of a freeman to wear ; 
 Enwrapp'd in his white shroud, he mourns those ages 
 
 When Ireland was ha'i»'d as the home of the free, 
 Wlien her name was inscribed upon history's pages 
 
 '' First flower of the earth, and first gem of the sea ; '^ 
 He ])oints to the spot where the legions of foemen 
 
 Descended when leaping from Albion's prows 
 To ravage a country that blushed for a woman 
 
 Who fled from a husband, forgetful of vows — 
 She rushed from the arms of him she had sworn 
 
 To love and to cherish, to serve and obey. 
 Unheeding the wounds of the bosom she'd torn. 
 
 The pangs of a heart she had thus thrown away, 
 To find a rppose on the breast that betray'd her. 
 
 To seek for deliorht in MacMurchad's embrace, 
 The renegade fri. r.'] )f the merciless invader, 
 
 To lavish her u^^ixim on the false and the base, 
 
 1 
 
 i 
 
 \ 
 
 I 
 
 An( 
 % I 
 
 1 1 
 
on, THE WRONGS OF lUElANT). 
 
 41 
 
 I 
 
 1 
 I 
 
 \. 
 
 Had there dwelt in her soul but one spark of tliat fediiiir 
 
 So lovely, so holy, so precious, so pure, 
 Like the diamond concealed in the cavern, revealin.<; 
 
 The chasm that yawns on its nature-rent floor, 
 ' T would have saved her from ruin, her kindred from slangliter. 
 
 Her name from reproach, and her country from sliame, 
 Her husband from scorn, and Erin's fair daughter 
 
 Would have died as a princess, untarnished in fame. 
 The treacherous wanton made virtue a pander ^^ 
 To lewdness — she flew on the wings of desire. 
 Nor chastity bridled, nor prudence restrained her, 
 
 Consumed by the blaze of Adultery's fire. 
 Dliearborgil, while Ireland exists on the ocwm, 
 
 Her iron cliffs lashed by the high-swelling sea, 
 While virtue excites but one throb of emotion, 
 
 While Earth is still trod by the steps of the {n^ti, 
 While those strains from the planets above me are swellincr, 
 
 To their Architect paying the homage they owe, 
 While the golden spirit of Faith has her dwelling 
 
 Of adamant on this dark world below. 
 Thy name shall be coupled with crime and dishonor. 
 
 Be uttered with loathing, be spoken in gloom, 
 And Ireland, lamenting the stain that's upon her. 
 
 Her curses will heap on thy untrodden tomb. 
 MacMurchad, while honor has votaries, never 
 
 Shall they render a thought but of hatred to thee, 
 The clouds of thy guilt -hall surround thee for ewr, 
 
 Thy treason, the taunt of the patriot be — 
 The sigh of the lover his mistress caressing, 
 
 As he -hinks of thy vileness in robbing the biavf 
 Of the treasure ho worshipped, life's holiest blessing, 
 
 Sliall piereo tliroiigh thy soul, oh I thou suppliant sla^e ; 
 Who, foul as the reptile that feeds on the forms, 
 
 Once teeming with grace, in the chamber of deatli, 
 And, crawling on living putridity, warms 
 Its ray less abode with its pestilent breath, 
 
 D2 
 
42 
 
 THE spirit's lament; 
 
 J 
 
 Did'st vilely, degradedly, sully the pearl 
 
 The Chieftain had set in the gold of his love, 
 The image he knelt to dic'st recklessl} hurl 
 
 From its stand upon purity's column above. 
 To sink in the slob of pollution, to lie 
 
 In rank prostitution's engulphing abyss, 
 While no tear of regret, nor a penitent sigh 
 
 To plead in the world to come, or in tiiis, 
 Redeemed thee from obloquy's festering mark, 
 
 Or chased from Fidelity's temple the frown, 
 Or lit with a passing effulgence the dark 
 
 And ominous shadow that settled upon 
 The features of Loyalty ; bitter thy lot, 
 
 Insulted when living, despised in the clay, 
 Ko waters can cleanse the indelible blot. 
 
 No, ocean itself could not wash it away. 
 When the Sun, in liis gentleness, smiles on the mountains, 
 
 Disisolving the snow on the tops of the hills. 
 And opens the blossoms that border the fountains, 
 
 And gilds, in its softness, the low-laughing rills, 
 Then ether's gay choristers notes shall upbraid tht-e. 
 
 And ask were these green fields created to bear 
 The tread of the slave ?— did the Being who made thee 
 
 And thorn e'er intend that a foe should be there ? 
 When the Sun, in his gorgeousness, glares on the river. 
 
 And paints the swift barks with his own yellow hue, 
 And Nature, in bloom, sends her hymn to the Giver 
 
 Of Good, and the trees in their gala robes woo 
 The zephyrs that fan with the ease of a lover. 
 
 And whisper of fragrance at every kiss, 
 Wlien each dell and each bower, each grove and each cover 
 
 Sends its tribute to form a garden of bliss ; 
 E'en up from that fairy Utopia exhaling. 
 
 The odor shall bear in its sweetness the taint 
 Of thy actions atrocious, thus quickly revealing 
 
 The land that gave birth to so duplex a scent ; 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
1 
 
 OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 43 
 
 ^ 
 
 * 
 
 4 
 
 While the Angel who gathers the perfume for Eden, 
 
 When the breeze from Hibernia catches his winirs — 
 That bteeze with the choicest aromata laden, 
 
 But with the rich offering also it brings 
 The stench of thy lust — must refuse what is i)roff(in'e(l, 
 
 For nothing polluted can enter his vase ; 
 Yet the gift is a rare one, he culls what is offered, 
 
 Reserving what's fair, and rejecting what's ba^e : 
 When the Sun, with his glories half-mellowed, is calling 
 
 The peasant to rise from his trance of delight ; 
 When the eve of the long sunny Summer-time's falling, 
 
 And Autumn descends with her tresses of light ; 
 When the youths are collecting the harvest, and singing 
 
 In chorus, and maidens have joined in the song, 
 While pleasure goes round and the gay laugh .s ringing, 
 
 Some chronicler hoary will tell of the wrong, 
 Then the eyes of the young men with madness will gli^^ten, 
 
 And women will shudder in horror and fear, 
 Maledictions will rise from the lip as they listen, , 
 
 And anger shall chase off the gathering tear ; 
 The burst ol indignant contempt shall confound thee. 
 
 The hisses shall bear to thy spirit a pain, 
 And high aspirations shall curl around thcc. 
 
 And plunge thee in torture again and again ; 
 When the Sun shall have lost all the diamonds adoi-ninor 
 
 His rich jewell'd helm, and feebly his rays 
 Remove the thick veil that envelopes the morning, 
 
 When his mirror of gold ho no longer displays ; 
 When fiercely the loud winds of Heaven are roaring, 
 
 And thunders are crashing, ?nd lightnings affright, 
 When the eagle alone through the firmament's soaring, 
 
 And deep-blushing I'oses no longer invite. 
 E'en then, when the wine in the goblet is darkling, 
 
 When valor is toasted, and beauty is praised. 
 When mirth rules the hour, and the nectar is sparkling. 
 
 And bright eyes vie with it, — the arm half mised 
 
44 
 
 THE spirit's lament; 
 
 To the lip shall descend, for the theme shall be started - 
 
 Of Ireland's reverses — of Ireland betrayed, 
 
 Her laurels all withered, her greatness departed,— 
 
 Shall insult be heaped on thy vilified shade. 
 And thus will it be 'till the last trump, awaking 
 
 Earth's tenants, shall summon the old and the vouno- 
 While the crackling of flames on immensity breaking, 
 Consumir , the globe, shall strike terror amonL'- 
 
 The awe-struck beholders, then you shall be lonelv 
 
 Of those to be judged even one sha'n't remain 
 By your side—you'll have with you your concubine only, 
 
 And spurned, despised, with apostacy's stain 
 Rankling deep in your spirit, detested you'll stand, 
 The aim for the scofl", and the mark for the yell. 
 While the world shall point to the treacherous hand 
 
 By which Ireland, the garden of loveliness, fell. 
 Lo, there the bereaved one, Iiis brown curls floatin*^ 
 
 On every breeze, asks for vengeance upon 
 His country's revilers maliciously gloating 
 O'er penury's pang, and o'er misery's moan, 
 
 The sons of the * green isle' he wildly beseeches 
 
 To humble the pride of the stranger who came 
 To back the seducer, while wildlv he stretches 
 
 The arms unused to submission so tame ; 
 He tells them to think of their countrv's invasion. 
 
 The foe disembarked upon Chastity's bier. 
 They alit on the strand 'mid the sighs of the nation, 
 
 And Religion dropt, as she saw them, a tear ; 
 And " Con of the Hundred Fights " joins in the iiray'r, 
 
 And tells the descendants of those whom he led 
 In battle so often, unconscious of fear, 
 
 To follow the track of their fathers wlio l>led 
 And fought by his side when the coward was slirinkino-. 
 
 And far from the heat of the contest retired, 
 While the long skein, all crimsoned, was greedily drinking 
 
 From streams which it loved, as the Saxon expired. 
 
 V 
 
 1 
 
 \ 
 
 fc 
 
1 
 
 OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 45 
 
 - 
 
 ^ 
 
 v 
 
 he O'Neill, from the bed where he lowly reposes, 
 And weeps for his birth-place with dun clouds o'ercast, 
 With gestures of anger indignant discloses 
 The tale of her ills to the northern blast, 
 And urges her children, hopeless, despairing. 
 
 To rise from their letliargio stupor, and win 
 Fame's diadem back in its brightness, and bearing 
 
 The treasure in triumph not lose it again ; 
 To struggle, unfearing, 'till thrall is extinguished. 
 
 Till the green banner flutter untarnished once more. 
 Nor cease 'till the strong hand of Might have relinquislied 
 
 Its prey, and the Kingdom rejoice as of yore ; 
 He a^ks, while the hectic of rage is overspreading 
 
 His cheeks pallid hue, doea the poltroon deserve 
 That himself and his clansmen, on tyranny treading. 
 
 Should, spite of allurement, unyielding observe 
 Allegiance to Ireland ? and was it for men 
 
 So abject he wielded the gore-clotted sword, 
 And laughed at the threats of a prostitute queen, 
 
 And mocked all the power of a despot abhorr'd ? 
 Did he immolate victmis on liberty's shrine 
 
 For recreants like them ?— no, valor forbid, 
 Her radiance was never intended to shine 
 On brows in the darkness of slavery hid. 
 Did hecatombs smoke on her altars that they 
 
 Might lick off the dust from Dulocracy's feet ? 
 Was the goddess appeased that the sons of the free, 
 
 The hand that had smote them should servdlely greet ? 
 Oh, Heaven ! 'tis fearful to think of the story 
 
 Of Ireland— her injuries, insults, and wrongs, 
 How pulsates my heart as the scene of her glory% 
 Now gone, on the vision of memory throngs ? 
 How curdles my blood as I look on her trembling, 
 
 Afraid to encounter the taskmaster's glance ? 
 How changed from the time when her armies assembling, 
 Her rights she maintained at the point of the lance ! 
 
46 
 
 THE spirit's lament; 
 
 I 
 
 Ml 
 
 Let me look at the time in the past's dark womb hidden, 
 
 When the Saxon first came here— since then she has been 
 The arena of strife, the inhabitants ridden 
 
 By foreign adventurers venting their spleen. 
 From the moment she bowed with a partial submissic.i 
 
 To Henry's sceptre, the deep-eating yoke 
 Was felt, and she suffered the scoff of derision, 
 'Till the slumbering fire of the patriot 'woke. 
 Wliat horrors I've looked on~her children dying 
 
 Of famine in numbers, no solace to soothe 
 Th' unbearable anguish, no kind voice replying 
 
 In softness, no words of affection to smooth 
 The road to Eternity's mansions— the hue 
 
 Of the half-swallowed wild roots discolored their lips,'* 
 Just trembling with life, while the ominous blue 
 
 Foreboded the nearness of death by its stripes ; 
 And Anarchy rode on the wings of the breeze, 
 
 And Massacre rioted wild thro' the land, 
 And Justice was banished ; the emblems of peace 
 
 Were changed for the scaffold, the axe, and the brand ; 
 The Saxon, or Saxon's descendant might plunge 
 
 The knife without fear in the Irishman's breast ; '' 
 If he murdered a servant, a fine would expunge 
 '6 xiie guilt, and all further pursuit was repressed. 
 I cannot bear to meditate 
 
 Upon her pristine power, 
 Tlie target for the bigot's hate, 
 
 Her former glory's o'er ; 
 Each Monarch's life, as in a glass, 
 
 Reveals some damning deed, 
 Coercion to the starving mass. 
 The bosom bared to bleed ; 
 From Henry's to the latest reign. 
 
 My own my lovely isle, 
 If ever has been seldom seen 
 To wear a passing smile ; 
 
 I 
 
 u 
 
 V, 
 
1 
 
 ll 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 V 
 
 OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 And every pang that shot thro' lier 
 
 Bore equal pam to me, 
 The irons she was doom'd to wear 
 
 Call'd a responsive sigh 
 From out the recess of my heart, 
 
 And madly throbbed my veins ; 
 I thought my heaving frame would part 
 
 Each time she dragged her chains ; 
 At every insult that was heap'd 
 
 By ribaldry upon 
 That groaning land, I pray'd and wept, 
 
 Nor wept and pray'd alone ; 
 'Twere tedious now to try and count 
 
 The causes of her grief. 
 E'en still her cries for mercy mount 
 
 On air, and reach this cliff; 
 As well might I go count the sands 
 
 That lie on the sea shore. 
 Or seek for track of art in lands 
 
 Unvisited before, 
 Or change the winged lightning's source 
 
 Against Th' Al-'-lity's will. 
 Or dry the raging rivers course, 
 
 Or destiny unveil. 
 As hope explicitly to tell 
 
 Her crime-fraught tale of wrong — 
 
 The blackened catalogue would swell 
 
 Beyond the reach of tongue. 
 
 ^ Oppression's form might be changed. 
 
 The substance was the same. 
 
 And whether Irishmen were hanged. 
 
 Or perislicd in the flame, 
 Ko matter, so they suffered, that 
 
 Was all the Saxon cared. 
 But death awaits the twining cat, 
 As well as faulchion bared, 
 
 47 
 
48 
 
 THE spirit's lament; 
 
 And \N'hcn the bloody scimitar 
 
 Resigned its office dread, 
 Then Law, high-aeated on his car, 
 
 Display'd in place of lead 
 The rope, the gibbet groaned beneath 
 
 The weight of Irish dead. 
 And Justice, Honor,— no, not Faith,— 
 
 And Hope affrighted fled ; 
 
 The tribunal was but a farce 
 
 Where bribery bestowed " 
 
 His gold on judges to coerce 
 
 The innocent, the good. 
 The stream of justice was defiled, 
 
 A verdict for the Crown 
 Was had, thus w^ere both coffers filled, 
 
 The prince's and their own ; 
 Yet after Spoliation brought 
 
 His satellites to urge 
 Contention, when the sabre smote — 
 
 Rebellions rabid scourge,— 
 Forgetting and forgiving all 
 
 They bore beneath his sway. 
 They strove to check their Monarch's fall, 
 
 His sinking throne to stay- 
 When all had left him on the wreck. 
 
 In revolution's wave ^^ 
 To sink, the Irish Catholic 
 
 Alone was found to brave 
 The strife for him who on them trod, 
 
 And spurned at their pangs. 
 And in the hour of splendor showed 
 
 The craven mongrel's fangs. 
 The nation that dethroned its King, 
 
 Then revell'd in his blood, 
 Is always suro the charge to fling 
 Of black ingratitude 
 
 i 
 
 n 
 
 V. 
 
i 
 
 i 
 
 OR, THE WRONGS OF IREIAND. 
 
 Into the teeth of those who fought 
 
 And bled for royalty, 
 And death and danger freely sought, 
 
 And met them manfully ; 
 When even those of his own creed 
 
 Desort^'d and betrayed. 
 His Irish subjects never fled, 
 
 They wielded still the blade — 
 And still refused to sheath it when 
 
 The fanatic required — 
 They dared the wily Puritan, 
 
 And, scorning him, expired. 
 Tiie fierce usurper brought his hordes, 
 
 They met them foot to foot, 
 And weeping History records 
 
 How well the Irish fought ; 
 But useless was their ardor, all 
 
 Their valor useless too. 
 The faithless King was doomed to fall. 
 
 They did what men could do ; 
 They faced th' avenger in his might, 
 
 Remorseless in his rage, 
 Whose deeds of horror yet affright 
 
 The infant and the sage. 
 On Winter's nights, around the hearth. 
 
 When winds tear overhead. 
 When feasting, frolic, fun, and mirth 
 
 Protract the hour for bed. 
 Some grandsire whispers but the name 
 
 Of Cromwell, and behold 
 A tremor seizes on the frame 
 
 Of young as well as old. 
 They throng around the crackling fire. 
 
 The gambol 's given o'er, 
 All sounds, save those of fear, expire. 
 
 The laugh is heard no more, 
 
 E 
 
 4;) 
 
:>o 
 
 THK SPIRIT S LAMENT ; 
 
 And palsied limbs, and ashy cheeks, 
 
 And startled glances tell 
 Their feelings, while a slight scream breaks 
 
 Betimes the silent spell : 
 The speaker's seat all gather near, 
 
 Lest at the door they find 
 Tlie monster — tremulous they hear 
 
 The cricket or the wind — 
 And well might stouter hearts than theirs 
 
 Beat feebly at his name. 
 Which mentioned, awes the child that errs, 
 
 Whose spirit breathed flame : 
 How many an ancient castle's walls, 
 
 Tlie scene of former pride. 
 Have heard the Roundhead's savage calls. 
 
 And many a mountain side 
 Was slippery with the vital flood 
 
 From many a gaping wound, 
 Where, fearless still, the unsubdued 
 
 Lay gasping on the ground ; 
 And many a temple reared to God 
 
 In other happier years, 
 Before the Covenanter trod 
 
 The land, or tumult's fears 
 So rudely shook the island's rest, 
 
 Re-echoed to the song, 
 As gingling spur and waving crest 
 
 Of trooper moved along 
 The pillar'd aisles, where slept beneath 
 
 The children of fame, 
 Who, could they rise from silent death, 
 
 Would shout Old Ireland's name ; 
 Within whose foetid vaults there lie 
 
 The true Milesian race. 
 Whose w^ar-note led to victory — 
 
 Lo ! now their dwelling-place. 
 
 i 
 
 "v 
 
OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 51 
 
 i 
 
 V 
 
 But could they start to life again, 
 
 And clasp the dirk and targe, 
 And head the strife upon the plain, 
 
 And mingle in the charge, 
 The Covenanter's flag would sink, 
 
 Its folds would ope no more, 
 The blade, tho' tired, would gladly drink 
 
 From founts of Saxon gore ; 
 Ere time had bowed them to the earth, 
 
 And still'd those veins of fire. 
 As lava streams in youtl'f J birth 
 
 Sweep madly in their ire 
 Down the volcano's heaving side, 
 
 The flood rolls on amain 
 It3 hissing course with giant stride, , 
 
 And blasts the smiling grain : 
 Such was the fierce and headlong might 
 
 Of those who rest oelow, 
 Their keen swords glisten'd in the fight, 
 
 A corpse at ever) blow 
 That fell, too surely marked the strength 
 
 That sped it—while reclined 
 Upon the dank earth, at his length, 
 
 The enemy resigned 
 His soul amid the exulting cries 
 
 Of Erin's victor guards, 
 WJiile notes of conquest reached the skies 
 
 From Erin's lyric bards. 
 Then foamed the goblet in the hall, 
 
 'Mid boisterous revelry, 
 Ere yet was felt the grinding thrall 
 
 By Ireland's chivalry. 
 Alas, " their sand of life is run, " 
 
 Their "lamp is burned out,*' 
 The sons of victory are gone— 
 
 The men who bled and fought 
 
li 
 
 52 THE spirit's lament ; 
 
 Against the Norman Knight, and Dane, 
 
 Tho' proven warriors, and 
 Led Conquest captive, urge in vain — 
 
 They can't redeem their land ; 
 But Glory weaves for them a wreath, 
 
 Whose leaves shall never fade — 
 The air that fans, aiFection's breath, 
 
 A nation's lo^'e, its shade ; 
 Within their dark abodes confined. 
 
 Their cry is still to save 
 Their isle — 'tis borne on each wind, 
 
 It issues from each jrave. 
 Still no reply, and silence reigns, 
 
 When sound of armed heel 
 Should be the answer — and those plains. 
 
 Shall they not ever feel 
 The weight of warrior'? liarger more. 
 
 Imbibe the frothy wi ath 
 Tliat, curling, falls, red-tinged with gore 
 
 At every laboured breath ? 
 Those verdant fields were never meant 
 
 To bear the bended knee, 
 Or smile upon the recreant ; 
 
 Those gorgeous skies to see 
 The kindling eyes that gaze upon 
 
 Their curtain's changing hue, 
 Afraid to meet the upstart's frown, 
 
 Or fawningly to sue. 
 With drooping lid, for pity from 
 
 The gaoler, when the spark 
 That flies from clashing steel should coiue 
 
 T' illuminate the dark 
 And cheerless snade that oft enrols 
 
 The face of skies serene. 
 
 When cursed Domination tolls 
 
 The knell for dying men. 
 
 f 
 
 « 
 
 I 
 
 V 
 
•f 
 
 OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 Bu", mouldering in the rottenness 
 
 Of death the arm lies 
 Whose sabre's light foretold success, 
 
 And presaged victories ; 
 It could not wield the trenchant blade, 
 
 The Roundhead triumphed then, 
 And Virtue saw her temples made 
 
 The ruthless robber's den. 
 The arch assassin, reeking with 
 
 His sovereign's purple tide, 
 His fellows led thro' Ireland's breadth, 
 
 And Hope her farewell sighed 
 Upon the breeze, whose pinions bore 
 
 The murderer's hurrah, — 
 And weakly woman fled before 
 
 War's terrible array. 
 How hideous was the prospect when 
 
 His followers rushed in — 
 How Wexford's worn turrets then 
 
 Were rocking with the din 
 Of madden'd oaths, *mid victim's throes, 
 
 As manhood struggling gasped, 
 While vapors from dark pools arose, 
 
 Where, unforgiving, clasped 
 In death's embrace, the Cavalier 
 
 And Puritan — the last 
 Field in which they met no tear 
 
 Or sigh erased the past 
 Deep-rooted hate they bore to each, 
 
 Or blotted out the mark 
 Left on their souls by creed : to reaeli 
 
 .')ri 
 
 The 
 
 
 Their feelings, they would gladly sink 
 In Hell's unfathom'd tomb, 
 
 Its burning waters ever drink, 
 So 'twas the other's doom ; 
 
54 THE spirit's lament: 
 
 To bear such torture, they'd not ask 
 
 A day's, an hour's reprief, 
 Each in the fate of each would bask, 
 
 And sue not for relief. 
 The castle fell by treachery. 
 
 It yielded to the foe. 
 And Cromwell did by bribery 
 / What courage could not do. 
 
 Oh, God ! what sights were tlien revealed ! 
 
 I cannot, must not think — 
 Trom lakes of human blood exhaled 
 
 A stench as from a sink, 
 The resorvoir of the slime 
 
 And putrid filth that run 
 From slaughter-houses, at the time 
 
 The fiercely blazing sun 
 Emits his rays with greatest force ; 
 
 Then Havoc raised his strain, 
 And corse was heaped on top of corse 
 
 In every street and lane ; 
 The aged man, life's verge upon, 
 
 Was trampled in the charge, 
 Tlie feeble, as the armed one. 
 
 Was a defenceless targe 
 At which the deadly rifle aimed ; 
 
 No quarter was allowed — 
 The bold were felVd, the timid maimed. 
 
 The hungry cannon mowed 
 Them down by hundreds— Prejudice 
 
 Cried • onwards, do not spare 
 Tlie villians,* " nits will turn to lice," ^» 
 
 Heed not the rebel's pray'r ; 
 Three hundred female voices poured *** 
 
 Their ]ileadings in his ear. 
 Their 'phiints his vengeance but insured, 
 The proselyting spear 
 
 f 
 
 » 
 
 V 
 
 V 
 
oil, THE WRONGS OF lUEF.ANl). 
 
 55 
 
 V 
 
 V 
 
 Replied to them, and quivering trunk 
 
 And trunkless head lay there ; 
 The saturated pavement drunk 
 
 The horrid draug'ht — no bier 
 Conveyed the bodies to the eartli — 
 
 No sepulchre received 
 The senseless dust, — while songs of mirth 
 
 Insulted the bereaved 
 And mourning friends, tho' few, alas. 
 
 Were left within the walls. 
 For weeks and months where pleasure was 
 
 Were heard but Death's low calls ; 
 The ruffian bands were seen to toss 
 
 The infant clay on high, 
 And drag the pious from the Cross, 
 
 And in its presence vie 
 In speeding rapiers deep within 
 
 The trusting bosom's core, 
 Then draw them forth, exulting in 
 
 The deed they should deplore. 
 Nor less disastrous was the day 
 
 When Tredah* was assailed. 
 The dread commander's forces lay 
 
 Encamped around, while mailed 
 Til valor's hauberk, Aston held 
 
 The enemy at bay. 
 Until the " King of Terror?" knoll'd.^^ 
 
 Wall's solemn requi<- lay ; 
 Strife ceased when the Protector swoi*e 
 
 That all within the town 
 Should suffer not ; too soon tiie roar 
 
 1 iliuivi.c;i j«ii5:;u. upOxa 
 
 The startled senses. Can it be 
 
 His promise thus he broke ? 
 Untrue to faith, had bigotry 
 
 His passion's fire awoke ? 
 
1 
 
 i 
 
 m 
 
 I i 
 
 56 THE SPIRITS lament; 
 
 Carousing in his tiger breast, 
 
 Destruction sits enthroned, 
 Tlie dagger is the monster's crest, 
 
 He heeds not oath or bond ; 
 He nods his head, and lo, arise, 
 
 As if by magic's spell, 
 His myrmidons, and earth and skies 
 
 Are shaken by the yell 
 That's borne on the atmosphere 
 
 As Religion expires, 
 While Murder's children, howling, rear 
 
 Their sacrificial fires ; 
 Where the ascetic immolates 
 
 The offering to his God, 
 But blasphemously desecrates 
 
 The altar where the good, 
 The pure and spotless, kneel and pray 
 
 Before that sacred sign 
 That threw a bright and burnish'd ray 
 
 O'er Christian Constantine, 
 Ere yet the garment of the Lord 
 
 Was hacked and rent by all 
 The scribblers of the hireling horde, 
 
 Whose ink is turned to gall. 
 Whose pen takes the stiletto's point 
 
 When they rail at His Church, 
 Unblemished by the canker taint 
 
 Of error — whose vast arch^ 
 Embraces the wide universe — 
 
 Whose clear and hallowed beams 
 The murky mists of crime disperse — 
 
 Whose bright translucence gleams 
 Amid the gloom of warring creeds, 
 
 Each built upon the sand, 
 As fair as when the rainbow shed* 
 
 Its hues o'er sea and land ; 
 
 < 
 
 \ 
 
 * 
 
 V, 
 
OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 57 
 
 t 
 
 V 
 
 And, like the rainbow, is a bond 
 
 Which God Himself has given 
 Of fallen man's redemption, and 
 
 Of heritage of Heaven. 
 The solemn pledge was broken when 
 
 All opposition ceased, 
 The snbre lost its wonted sheen 
 
 Wi iin the wounded breast ; 
 For many days the tragic scene 
 
 Continued — vengeance, wild 
 Fanaticism revelled then, 
 
 And woman, man, and child, 
 Without regard to sex or age. 
 
 Were slaughtered : there they lay, 
 The victims of the tyrant's rage. 
 
 The mute, unspeaking clay, 
 A damning evidence, displayed 
 
 The hatred which he bore 
 The Saviour's tenets ; men, dismay'd, 
 
 Fled towards the chapel's door. 
 They enter 'neath the holy porch, — 
 
 No foe will follow there ; 
 Not even the Almighty's Church 
 
 Could shield them from the 3ar : 
 Within the venerable fane 
 
 They perished by the score. 
 And blood, Ps if from fountains, ran 
 
 Upon the marble floor ; "^ 
 Ay, at the very altar's foot, 
 
 Round which they pressed to seek 
 Protection, did the raving brute 
 
 Annihilate the weak ; 
 Beneath the old Cathedral's roof. 
 
 Where Jesus was adored. 
 Was formed many a darkling trough, 
 
 With steaming fluid stored. 
 
58 
 
 THE SPIRITS lament; 
 
 I ! 
 
 Hi i 
 
 El M 
 
 J' ' 
 
 li 
 
 Yes, Hell's libation was high raised 
 
 Beneath that dome divine, 
 The torch of lust in fury blazed 
 
 Before His sacred shrine — 
 The flower of Ireland's chivalry 
 
 Were murdered without ruth — 
 They put their tri "t in perfidy — 
 
 They believ'd in English truth ; 
 Aston, Byrne, Verney, and 
 
 The other leaders swam 
 In ponds rubescent, the spent land 
 
 Was swept with sword and flame ; 
 And yet the wholesale homicide, 
 
 Whose path 'mid carnage led, 
 Whose name, extending far and wide. 
 
 Dismay and terror spread. 
 Repeated maxims from the Book 
 
 Of Life, to prove that he 
 His line of action duteous took 
 
 From Scripture ; blasphemy 
 Must throw its lurid garment o'er 
 
 The lying wretch to hide 
 Hls nature's thirst for massacre — 
 
 To screen his soaring pride, 
 That sought to grasp the diadem 
 
 Of England's mighty realra. 
 He thought the way to seize that gem 
 
 Was thus to overwhelm 
 The land he came to conquer, such 
 
 A course he knew would win 
 Applause from Britain, not reproach ; 
 
 But let e'en her be in 
 HLs grasp, she'd plunge within the mesh, 
 
 Tho' now she gave the cheer, 
 While throbbed the lacerated flesh ; 
 
 Nor would he then revere 
 
 \ 
 
 V. 
 
J 
 
 V 
 
 \ 
 
 V 
 
 OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 ITie men lie once professed to serve, 
 
 Ere yet a mammoth grown — 
 While yet, pretending tt observe 
 
 The decalogue alone, 
 The clotted rowels of the spur 
 
 Should drive them as he chose. 
 The arching whip's descending whir 
 
 Would awe should they oppose. 
 He held the Bible in one hand, — 
 
 So well he loved his Lord, — 
 The other heaved the ready brand. 
 
 Or raised aloft the sword ; 
 He ope'd the precious leaves to sh^^.f 
 
 His high commission from 
 Above — God's delegate below 
 
 Must win his future home 
 In Paradise by deeds so dread 
 
 That Hell itself would blush. 
 Ashamed to think that man should tread 
 
 Where only fiends should rush. 
 And when his object was achieved — 
 
 When towns and cities fell 
 Beneath his sway, and Ireland heaved 
 
 Her last convulsed farewell 
 To Freedom, did he try to cloak 
 
 His actions from the eye 
 Of mankind ? did he seek to choke 
 
 And stifle the pent sigh, 
 Ere yet it issued from the breast 
 
 Just bursting with the weight 
 Of sorrow that would be repressed 
 
 In l)osoms desolate ? 
 Or, like him, seeking to retrieve 
 
 His shame by fell design. 
 Who, when he asked the woman Eve 
 
 To eat the fruit, whence sin 
 
 59 
 
60 
 
 THE spirit's lament ; 
 
 And 
 
 evil, told his tale, 
 
 every 
 
 Of the forbidden tree, 
 Yet, cautiously, would not reveal 
 
 The tragic fate which she 
 Was doomed to should she eat of it ; 
 
 Did he too try to screen 
 The fate of Ireland, or remit 
 
 The sentence which had been 
 Inflicted so unsparingly, 
 
 So treacherously ? No ! 
 His matchless deeds of blackened dye 
 
 In gaudy garb must go 
 Before the world, pirating 
 
 The language of the Saint ; 
 Sacrilegeously he must bring, 
 
 With puritanic taint, 
 The Great Creator to approve 
 His fuming course of blood. 
 And call upon the Lamb of Love 
 
 To smile upon his road 
 Of carnage ; Lucifer himself, 
 
 Impervious to ruth. 
 Were tamer than this daring elf 
 Of wickedness, whose mouth 
 (Like ever-gushing springs that rise 
 
 From beds of saline sand, 
 Clear and pellucid to the eyes, 
 
 They speed their way inland, 
 But when the trav'ller stoops to ease 
 
 The burning heat that wends 
 Thro' every pore, he can't appease 
 
 His thirst — again he bends, 
 But futile still, for every time 
 
 He drinks his parched lips cleave 
 More closely, and the thick'ning slime 
 Increases — how relieve 
 
 V 
 
 V "^ 
 
I 
 
 7 
 
 <3R, THE WRONGS OF IRE 1 AND. 
 
 His sufferings ? he cannot bear 
 
 The gnawing, eating, fire 
 That glows within— in mute despair 
 
 He wishes to expire, 
 If die he must, in water, not 
 From fierce internal flame, 
 And plunges in, his temples hot, 
 
 Beneath the briny stream. 
 There is a pleasure in the cool 
 And bubbling fluid— there 
 Let the last slumber gently lull 
 
 His anguish on the air,— 
 Let fairy music float, and breathe 
 
 A rapture thro' his frame, 
 While as he takes the sleep of death, 
 
 Low voices call his name ; 
 Could he his passions but command. 
 
 Ere long he would have found 
 A well of limpid water, and 
 
 The lonely arid ground 
 Would not have been his dying bed. 
 
 The spotted pard the friend 
 That else would by his couch have pray'd. 
 
 And sorrows note the wind 
 That howls the scorching desert o'er, 
 The wild bird's scream the tongue 
 He lov'd to hear, but never more 
 
 Its soft and dulcet song 
 Shall swell in strains to love endear'd, 
 
 And lend a bliss to care- 
 Its sweetest accents flow unheard, 
 And now unheeded are,) 
 
 Foured forth the dueDi i/i-^^—^ —7 
 
 Which, dazzled by the flight 
 They took, as if the distant skies 
 Had gilt them with their light. 
 
 61 
 

 ^^^H -- 
 
 (j2 THE spirit's lament ; 
 
 Moil drank the words of blessedness — 
 
 A thirst for more they find 
 The more they drank, still less and less 
 
 The horrid thirst declined ; 
 Distractedly they called for more, 
 
 To drown the craving want, 
 And Cromwell gave the draught of gore 
 
 For which he saw them pant ; 
 They looked upon his open glance, 
 
 And believed whate'cr he said. 
 Their minds were lost, as in a trance, 
 
 And all suspicion fled ; 
 For, like the basilisk, whose eye 
 
 Within its folds can draw 
 The nerveless bird it lures to die. 
 
 So could his bold gaze awe 
 The fascinated multitude, 
 
 Who gave their prostrate forms 
 By Superstition to be hewed. 
 
 That towcr'd amid the storms 
 Himself had raised, and heaved afar 
 
 The thunder in his might. 
 And urged the wild chaotic war 
 
 That heralded the night 
 Of ignorance, no moon to shed 
 
 Its mellow silvery beams, 
 When all is dark and stars are fled, * 
 
 Nor shooting meteor gleams 
 To throw an evanescent light 
 
 Upon the murky scene, 
 A vasty void must meet the sight 
 
 Where sunshine erst had been ; 
 He took the surest means to mould 
 
 The Rabble to his will. 
 His merciless followers were told 
 
 To bur:', slay and kill. 
 
 ;'*< 
 
* 
 
 * V, 
 
 OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 " Let Ireland perish/' that one word, 
 
 Like Chaiity, concealed 
 A host of sins, that sentence stirr'd 
 
 Their passions, it revealed 
 The boiling hate, the seething ire 
 
 That bubbled in their souls, 
 And then rushed fiercely forth like fire 
 
 That turo* the prairie rolls 
 Its course destructive gen y o'er 
 
 The toppling grass at first, 
 Anon the flames ascending roar, 
 
 The maddening winds have burst 
 Their prison-house and lend their aid 
 
 To the devouring sea 
 That throws afar its crimson shade 
 
 Into immensity. 
 A short time since the meadow shown 
 
 In richest loveliness, 
 And nov/ behold the setting sun 
 
 Looks on its loneliaess. 
 So was their rage expended on 
 This fair, tliis beauteous isle, 
 That whilom looked so happy, soon 
 
 To drop the gladsome smile 
 And wear the weeds of widowhood, 
 
 Secluded, pine away 
 And lose her cherished nationhood 
 
 Beneath a Foreign sway. 
 What an atrocious spirit reigned 
 
 Within that savage breast. 
 Which unconcern'd could have penned 
 
 And unconfused address'd 
 A letter, such as that he wrote. 
 To Parliament, and when he 
 Had taken Tredah which besought, 
 With dread impiety, 
 
 63 
 
u 
 
 THE spirit's lamekt ; 
 
 m 
 
 Hi.^ countrymen to ofter np 
 
 Their prayers to God alone, 
 Tiiat deep, the reminiscent, cup 
 
 Should be drained by eacli one 
 For the success of saintly worth 
 
 In its emergency ; 
 That hymns of joy should be i)ourod fortlt 
 
 To Heaven's Majesty, 
 For having robbed its Churches, and 
 
 Deprived its Priests of life ; 
 For having sent upon this land 
 
 The cataract of strife. 
 What mockery to bend the knee 
 
 In lowly homage to 
 The gracious God of Charity, 
 And thank him for the flow 
 Of Christian blood, by demons shed : 
 
 What insult to his name? 
 To kneel upon the murdered dead 
 
 And daringly exclaim, 
 " Oh, Lord! to thee we give the thanks^ 
 
 To thee alone they're due,^^ 
 For having mowed the Irish ranks, 
 
 And sent thy servants through 
 The columns of the enemy, 
 
 Whose naked bodies show'd 
 The marks of ghastly wounds which we 
 
 Inflicted as we trod 
 Upon their filthy carcasses. 
 
 To prove our love of Thee 
 We left the putrid masses 
 
 To rot, ere we would see 
 The cursed Rebel even thrown 
 In earth or let a child 
 
 Of the lewd -of Babylon 
 
 Receive sepulture ; wild 
 
 1 
 
 •v 
 
OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 Rejoicings were held over him, 
 
 The sinful slave of Rome, i 
 
 We Iv ked up .n it as a crime 
 To ^. nt his dust a tomb. 
 For Thy great goodness, Lord, we rjuse 
 
 Our iieurts in humble prayer. 
 To Thee we give the song of praise, 
 
 Let all the world hear 
 How groat Jehovah slev; the foe. 
 
 Allowed but one to fly,** 
 And, aiding, nerved our arms so 
 
 When they were lifted high 
 It seemed as if an Angel came 
 
 To help us from above. 
 As from the steui a wondrous flame 
 
 Shot forth, the godless strove 
 To be avenged, in vain they stood ; 
 
 The sharply whizzing lead, 
 At every thrust the Angel strew'd 
 The ground with pulseless dead. 
 Three thousand worshippers of Baal-* 
 
 Were by thy justice slain, 
 They asked for pity but the call 
 
 Was made to us in vain ; 
 We would not dare thy words despise 
 
 By granting mercy to 
 The miscreants whose doleful cries 
 
 Fell on our ears like dew. 
 Upon the rose whose petals fade 
 
 Beneath *hft gorgeous glare 
 Of Summer's sun, but when the shade 
 
 Of Evening falls the fair 
 But drooping green of gardens sips 
 
 The nectargd vapors, then 
 The crimson stains her fragrant lips, 
 She blooms in grace again, 
 
 F3 
 
 (>5 
 
m 
 
 THE spirit's lament; 
 
 So did the sated sabre droop 
 And seek its scabbard till 
 They begged for quarter, when our whoop 
 
 Went forth again, the steel 
 Flashed glif*t'ning o'er the stooping neck, 
 
 The tongue that pleaded lost 
 Its power of utterance, and the cheek, 
 
 The globule's sunken coast — 
 Resigned the half retiring teint, 
 And lifted hands that clasped 
 Soon loosed then holds of each, the plaint 
 
 Of idolists that gasped 
 In their last agony was heard 
 
 No longer, all was o'er. 
 The few whom living we have spared 
 
 Shall see their soil no more ; 
 Within the bolted cell they'll wail. 
 
 Till prosp'rous breezes blow 
 To fill the vessel's flowing sail. 
 To urge the sharpen'd prow 
 Through azured ocean's foaming waves 
 
 Until Barbadoes* shore 
 Is reached, then let the galley slaves 
 
 In i.iains tug ai the oar. 
 There as they toil and sweat beneath 
 
 A torrid zone they*ll think 
 Upon the shady glen, the heath- 
 
 Deck'd hill, and, pensive, drink 
 With greediness the wind that comes 
 
 Across from Enn's strand. 
 That quick recalls their island homes 
 
 While fancy paints their land 
 In even lovelier colors than 
 She's robed by nature in, 
 Until at last the victim^- wan 
 And pale, shall cease to pine. 
 
 \ 
 
 V 
 
\ 
 
 V 
 
 OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 So do the damned in Hell's vast vaults, 
 
 From whom naught can avert 
 Sin's wages, grieve for carnal fault"*, 
 
 And, penitent, revert 
 To fleeting days of pleasure spent 
 
 Upon this upper earth, 
 When Luxury his .haplet lent 
 
 To deck them with, and Mirth 
 Strewd flow'rs upon their velvet patti, 
 
 And Music threw her spell 
 Arou- then, ere their Maker's wratli 
 
 Rex ^ved the opaque veil 
 That covered w;+h its folds the gato 
 
 Of vast futurity 
 And sent them headlong to a fate 
 
 Of pain and misery. 
 The scorching Western Antilles 
 
 Shall hug them to their breast, 
 The low and soft Columbian hveem 
 
 Shall, as they take their rest. 
 Sigh a mournful elegy 
 
 Above the stranger's grave. 
 
 Oh, bounteous God, all thanks to Th J, 
 
 Who to Thy servants gave 
 The pow'r to blast Idolatry, 
 
 And scatter those who dare 
 With infamous impiety 
 
 The gilded cross to rear ; 
 Then praise and honor to Thy nanus'" 
 
 Let Alleluiahs ring, 
 Thy enemies are sunk in shame. 
 
 Let all Thy followers sing 
 In strains of joy ; the Papist moans, 
 
 Reviled, debased, subdued, 
 How sweet the howling sinner s groans. 
 
 Half covered in liis blood." 
 
 67 
 
'tr 
 
 ^g THE spirit's lament; 
 
 What emanations of the heart 
 
 To come from those who spoke 
 The Gospel, knew its every part, 
 
 Yet from whose lips there broke 
 Such streams of ranting infamy 
 As caused a laugh throughout 
 The infernal regions, wliilv, dismay 
 
 In bold relief stood out 
 Upon angelic faces. Weak, 
 
 From tliinldng on the shame 
 That shadows Ireland, I must seek 
 
 A brighter, holier, theme ; 
 To the latest generations, 
 
 Like the searing brand of Cain, 
 This sunk degraded nation's 
 Curse shall leave its stain 
 On desecrated Cromwell's fame, 
 
 And millions yet unborn 
 Will heap revilings on his name, 
 
 On his lost soul their scorn. 
 Thus did the English Protestant 
 
 Immerse himself in lakes 
 Of thickening blood while still and faint 
 
 The Irish Catholic's 
 Expiring rattle died ; but when 
 
 The tide of fortune rolled 
 Its current onward to the main ^ 
 
 Where love and mercy lulled *'' 
 With zephyrs soft the waves which war 
 
 In boist'rous anger raised, 
 When virtue lent its blessed star 
 
 Then rage no longer blazed 
 Upon the madly leaping mass 
 
 Of insurrection's sea. 
 And Rapine when he saw her pass 
 Did smile on Charity. 
 
 \ 
 
 V 
 
 ' 
 
OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 69 
 
 \ 
 
 V 
 
 ' 
 
 How many actions could I count 
 
 Well worthy of the days 
 When Athens drank at learning's fount, 
 
 Or Homer wore the bays ; 
 Not Priam's city could have shown 
 
 More valour in the hour 
 When Greece's heroes girt the town, 
 
 And rampart, wall and tow'r 
 Were guarded by the bravest to 
 Defend their sires, their own, 
 From ruin, and the trumpet blew 
 
 Its shrill and martial tone. 
 Than Ireland's children betray'd 
 
 When fighting by the side 
 Of monarchy, they gladly made 
 
 Their bodies, as they died, 
 A parapet to guard their king 
 
 And screen him from all harm, 
 He ne'er deserved " the nameless thing** 
 
 That they should raise an arm 
 For him, they never should have fought 
 
 To save him from his doom — 
 'Twere wiser if they never sought 
 
 To snatch hhn from the tomb. 
 Not Socrates in days of yore 
 
 More glorious could have shone 
 'Neath Pity's snowy banner, nor 
 
 More mildly looked upon 
 The man who gave the oyster's shell 
 
 To him that he might write 
 His own name there, and thus expel 
 
 Himself from each delight. 
 Than did the sons of Erin when 
 
 The foe was in their pow'r ; 
 When mountain, valley, hill and glen 
 Were by them traversed o'er, 
 
70 
 
 ,28 
 
 THE spirit's lament *, 
 
 Their arms decked with olive leaves, 
 
 No crimson spots were there, — 
 They smothered not in dismal caves' 
 
 The helpless and the fair, 
 Nor did they once retaliate, 
 
 And pay back ill for ill, 
 Nor anger urged, nor deadly hate 
 
 Incited them to kill 
 The captive taken in the fight ; 
 No ! honor bade them spare 
 Their fallen enemies,— their might 
 
 Was only seen when war 
 Upraised his flag on high to float. 
 
 Whene'er the field was won 
 Resentment ceased ; they never smote 
 
 The rival.overthrown ; 
 They murdered not the ministers ^^ 
 
 Of any creed before 
 Their very alters, while their tears 
 
 For mercy on the floor 
 Dropt heavily ; no river's bed 3o 
 Was filled with ghastly forms 
 By them, nor slaughtered maidens made 
 
 A banquet for the worms ; 
 They did not bring disgrace upon 
 
 Humanity and slay 
 The mother, and when life was gone 
 
 Insult th' unconscious clay.'^ 
 Ohl what a pleasure to contrast 
 
 Such dark debasing crime, 
 Yet unatoned for, unerased. 
 
 With actions so sublime, 
 So generous as those which they, 
 The outcast, the condemned, 
 
 Pertbrmed, when the spurious ray 
 Of here; v was dimmed 
 
 \ 
 
 V 
 
OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 71 
 
 \ 
 
 And Viid beneath the luminous, 
 
 The grand, majestic orb 
 That in its splendour then arose, 
 
 To chase or to absorb 
 Tlie mists of infidelity 
 
 That on the horizon hung 
 In threatening masses luridly, 
 While sharply, shrilly rung, 
 The tempest of insanity. 
 
 And ruffians prowled about 
 To snatch the lamp from Piety 
 
 And blow its bright flame out. 
 ^lorc lovely by comparison 
 
 With Scotch and English deeds 
 Hibernia's softened virtues shone, 
 
 As growing among we^ds. 
 Fan* flowers seem fairer, richer still. 
 
 Than when they grow alone. 
 Not that they have a sweeter smell, 
 
 But each and every one 
 Looks brighter far surrounded by 
 
 The rank grass the wild root, 
 And so beneath an orient slvv 
 
 More precious is the fruit 
 When trav'Uing on the desert wastes 
 
 The wanderer is faint. 
 And cheerless, reckless, down he casts 
 
 His body, for the want 
 Of drink is maddening : in a small 
 
 And green oasis near 
 Tlie spot where ho reclines the tall 
 
 And graceful citrons bear 
 The melting treasure, which is more 
 
 To him than gold or gems : 
 His thirst assuaged, his mis'ry <>*<'i"» 
 He sports him in tlie beams. 
 
lit El: 
 
 72 THE spirit's lament; 
 
 Of present pleasure, and forgets 
 
 The torments undergone, 
 Nor recks he tho' the future threats, 
 
 Companionless, alone, 
 He thinks not of the weary road 
 
 Which lies before him yet, 
 Tho' many a region must be trod 
 
 Ere to his home he get. 
 When first the insurrection broke 
 
 On the affrighted land, 
 When Freedom's thrilling voice awoke 
 
 The men of Ulster, and 
 Aroused the nation from its trance 
 
 Of drugged servility. 
 When rusty pike and sharp en'd l?nce 
 
 Were raised rejoicingly, 
 Then did the spirit of the creed 
 
 The rebel shield shine forth, 
 E'en then its peaceful tenets sway'd 
 
 Their councils, and gave birth 
 To laws that would have shed a light, 
 
 A halo round the brow 
 Of pure philanthropy, so bright 
 
 'Twould seem the peerless glow 
 Of silvered sunshine which surrounds 
 
 The Cherubim on high, 
 When to the golden harp resounds 
 
 The Heavenly canopy ; 
 The Catholics proclaimed that none 
 
 Of Scotch descent should lose 
 Theii- lives or chattels, tho' 'twas known 
 
 ]^fi^7And a doubt that those 
 Who bayoneted upon the bed 
 
 Whole thousands in Ma gee, - 
 Were mostly Scotch ;— unmerited 
 Bv them was this decree. 
 
 J^ 
 
OR, THE WRONGS OF IREXAND. 
 
 Tve seen O'Rorke of Drumahicr ^ 
 
 Look on lus brother's corse,^^ 
 Who fell, not by the sdldier's spear,— 
 
 The scaffold was his hears' \ — 
 But he woul 1 not descend to stain 
 
 With murderer's horrid dye 
 His soul eternal, tho' a train 
 
 Of Scotch nobility 
 Were i\t the time within his fort, — 
 
 Unharmed did they go ; 
 To glut revenge he'd not resort 
 
 To butcliory, oh, no, 
 Tiie j)recepts of his church forbade — 
 
 " Vengeance is thine, oh Lord !" 
 He thought on what the Psalmist said. 
 
 And bow'd him to his word. 
 This and a thousand others are 
 
 Strong evidence to prove 
 Tliat even in a civil war 
 
 My country is above 
 The morbid passions that disgrace 
 
 And brutalise the soul. 
 That pity's streams in rapid race 
 
 Thro' Irish bosoms roll. 
 How pure a people must have been 
 
 Who in the hottest strife 
 Could still the flight of anger rein 
 
 And follow justice ; life 
 And limb and land were sacred, grim 
 
 Devastation cowered 
 Beneath Religion's eye, and Crime 
 
 In mute submission lowered 
 ^ To apostolic mandate his 
 
 Naked arm that held 
 With firm grip the upraised creeffp 
 
 And scared, fl( fi'om the field, 
 
 G 
 
 7:^ 
 
74 
 
 THE spirit's lament ; 
 
 ii 
 
 Tho' loud the timbrel swelled its note 
 
 Of conquest, tho' the land 
 Enjoyed a triumph dearly bought 
 
 She lost her nobles and 
 Her truest children in the fray : 
 
 Yet in the day of pride 
 And power and pomp she gave not way 
 
 To Rapine, nor denied 
 Forgiveness to the suppliant,^* 
 
 Nor pardon to the weak, 
 Nor mercy to the postulant, 
 
 That ever came to seek 
 Protection ; no, altho' for years 
 
 The native party reigned. 
 Nor sadden'd sighs nor coursing tears 
 
 Their name or actions stained. 
 But when dissension undermined 
 Their strength, and when again 
 Corruption's pest-infected wind 
 Swept onward thro' the plain 
 And valley, did the sworn foe 
 To injured Ireland's peace 
 Endeavour to assuage her wo, 
 
 Or kindly to erase 
 The thought of oid and dreary timet 
 
 And grant a blissful rest, 
 Or act anew her former crimes 
 
 And slaughter and molest 
 The innocent with venomed ire, 
 
 Unglutted, unallay'd, ? 
 She tore the daughter from the sire, 
 
 The mother from the maid, — 
 Yes, England, thou didst desecrate 
 
 The laws of man and God, 
 With unextinguishable hate, 
 Inhuman and unaw'd ; 
 
 m 
 
 \ 
 
OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 75 
 
 i V 
 
 ♦ 
 
 In myriads were thy victims driven 
 
 From family, from home, 
 The most endearing ties were riven 
 
 Remorselessly, and some 
 Were banished to a sterile part^^ 
 
 Of Ireland, there to live— 
 If live they could with broken heart- 
 Unceasingly to grieve 
 Upon their blighted prospects ; more 
 
 Were exiled from their own ^"^ 
 To seek upon some other shore 
 
 For succour and renown, 
 And well did they acquire the name 
 
 Of Europe's bravest men ; 
 They reached the lofty tow'r of fame, 
 
 And won they nobly then 
 The shouts of an applauding world 
 
 That wond'ring looked upon 
 The gorgeous flag of green unfurl'd, 
 
 Its lustre all its own. 
 Nervinde proclaims their valour, there 
 
 The enemy retired 
 Before their prowess, every where 
 
 Fresh honors they acquired ; 
 Where'er they went a headlong rout 
 
 Of hostile hosts ensued. 
 For danger's post they always sought, 
 
 And glory's track pursued. 
 Oastiglione, Almanza, Spire, 
 Marseilles, Cremona, all. 
 Beheld their ardent spirits' fire 
 
 And many a foeman's fall 
 Endeared them to the hearts of France, 
 
 Who clasped them to her breast, 
 And raised on high to eminence 
 The warriors of the west ; 
 

 •f> 
 
 THE spirit's lament ; 
 
 M 
 
 
 And Barcelona, Monnin, ay, 
 
 And Viciosa, too, 
 With Lawfeld, Ypres, and Touniay^ 
 
 Decli; !u hat they could do. 
 AH thit?e and other places bore 
 
 The signals of their might, 
 Where fields baptized in streaming gort* 
 
 Announced the hard fought fight, 
 Tliey consecrated with their blood 
 
 Their strong attachment to 
 The gracious mistress who had stood 
 
 Their friend in time of wo. 
 Not Rome herself had pix)uder names 
 
 Than those that went abroad 
 In search of safety ; Tagus' streams. 
 
 Whose yellow waters flowed 
 To sounds of Irish clairsoach, saw 
 
 The heroes of the gem 
 Of ocean spread dismay and awe 
 
 Upon its shores, while dim 
 The light of Heaven set on those 
 
 Who braved Algarva's powder. 
 And when that orb agjiin arose 
 
 Their paltry pride was o'er ; 
 O'Mahony, O'Donnel, Burke, 
 
 With Crofton, Lacy, and 
 O'Carroll, Comerford, O'Rorke, 
 
 Led each a valliant band, 
 And crowned themselves with laurels from 
 
 / ' \ 
 
 / 
 
 The never fading tree 
 
 That decks the bold alone, and some 
 
 Embarked for Germany ; 
 And there in fights unnumbered brought 
 
 The envied palm away, 
 The Eagle's drooping wings they caught. 
 
 And sent amid the fray 
 
OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 77 
 
 / ) s 
 
 / 
 
 Tlie Austrian bird again to soar 
 
 Above the Austrian Ranks, 
 And caused the joyous song once more 
 
 Along the Danube's banks. 
 The exploits of their chieftains fired 
 
 Them in the chase of fame — 
 That was the object still untired 
 
 They followed — for the same 
 Revolving beacon that had lured 
 
 Their loaders (seldom gained, 
 Tho' reached by them) themselves adored ; 
 
 How eagerly was strained 
 Their aching vision when that light 
 
 Distinction's signal blazed, 
 The bosom bounded at the sight, 
 
 Its corruscations dazed, — 
 Mountcashel, Dillon, Nugent, Clare, 
 
 Fitzgerald, Lucan, Lee, 
 And Galmoy, in the path of war 
 
 Unknown to flinch or flee, 
 Plucked blossoms from the rich parterre 
 
 Where glory's blossom blooms 
 In majesty ; they knew not fear 
 
 Tho' on the road where tombs 
 And danger met them at each step, 
 
 While Death stood frowning by, 
 " Th' inexorable" could not keep 
 
 Them back ; they lool^ed on high 
 Among the branches of the tree 
 
 Where what they sought for grew, 
 They plucked the charm daringly 
 
 Which led them onward through 
 The mazes of lifers forest, and 
 
 Enrobed them in renown, — 
 'Neath every sky in every land 
 
 Their native virtue shone ; 
 
 G2 
 
i 
 
 78 
 
 Ml 
 
 THE spirit's lament J 
 
 But more i)articularly when 
 
 It clashed with baseness, or 
 Hypocrisy confronted, then. 
 
 Unreined, iinstay'd, it tore 
 Awav the strongest barriers, no 
 
 Restraint could check it, on 
 It hurried with its victim, low 
 
 Was heard the struggler's gtoiui. 
 'Tis thus before the bending steel 
 
 Untempered iron flies. 
 The burnished metal's sparks reveal 
 
 Its purer qualities ; 
 Strike one against the flinty rock. 
 
 Uninjured is the brand, 
 Tiio other cannot bear the shocks 
 
 'Twill shiver in the hand. 
 O'Donnel, Rothes, and Hamilton, 
 
 Are sung in story yet 
 Along the borders of the Rhone, 
 
 The Mouse will not forget 
 Hibernia's valour while its tide 
 
 Runs o'er its sandy bed, 
 Its waters were a garnet dyed. 
 
 It bosom choked with dead 
 That fell beneath the Irish sword, 
 
 And Po's romantic stream 
 Has seen the fierce barbarian horde 
 
 Avoid the hated gleam 
 Of Erin's scimitar ; each zone 
 
 Has tested w^ell their truth 
 And loyalty, and every Crown 
 
 In Europe tried the faith 
 Of Irishmen: it is alone 
 
 'Neath English rule theyVe trod. 
 In every country but their own 
 
 They travel on the road 
 
 s. 
 
OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELANP. 
 
 79 
 
 s. 
 
 " That leads to fortune ;" there is Spain, 
 
 Whose conq'ring arms subdued 
 Almost n, globe, tor whom the main 
 
 Upon its restless flood, 
 Uore countless navies, she who once 
 
 Wa queen of natio'^s drew 
 Aro'Mid her throne those emigrants, 
 
 The warm an<l the true ; 
 In other ages Vv.jtri 
 
 Looked wond'ring on the host 
 That seized the car of victory 
 
 When all was nearly lost, 
 And followed its ignited track ; 
 
 The goddess smiled upon 
 The spoilers she could not keep back. 
 
 The battle fleld was won. — 
 And Campo Sancto girt their brows 
 
 With coronets impearled, 
 The loftv oaks' luxuriant boughs 
 
 Above their heads unfurled 
 Their graceful drapery and dropped 
 
 Their acorns to show 
 That those they fell on never stooped 
 
 In combat to the foe. 
 Italia called them to her side— 
 
 The country of romance— 
 And Roman and Milesian vied 
 
 (The proud inheritance 
 Of noted bravery was theirs) 
 
 Upon the tented plain, 
 Together they received their scars, 
 
 Together they were slam, 
 But not 'till round them lay a heap 
 
 Of voiceless witnesses 
 To prove the conquest was not cheap : 
 
 Their loathsome carcasses 
 
80 
 
 THE SPIRITS lament; 
 
 !| 
 
 ;i 
 
 HI 
 
 Displayed the marks of Roman skilled ; 
 
 The gashes of the skein 
 Fron. wh'ch the trickling streams distilled 
 
 Told of the Irishman. 
 O'Dwyer, Wallace, Taafe, O'Neil, 
 
 And Hamilton, and Brown, 
 Beneath whose shock whole legions fell, 
 
 Invincibly bore down 
 Upon the terror-stricken force 
 
 That scarcely wouM await 
 The onset and left many a corse 
 
 To tell of their defeat. 
 The Empire yielded to their trust 
 
 The safety of the realm, 
 When endless Ijcust swarms crost 
 
 The limits to overwhelm 
 Her laughing vineyards, who were those 
 
 That drove th ixn back again, 
 Or looked on the expiring throes 
 
 Of the invaders slain ? 
 The warm tears of France bedew 
 
 The ashes of the great 
 Who on the wings of conquest )lew 
 
 To save the trembling state ; 
 Upon the tablet of the heart 
 
 Of Gallia are inscribed 
 Their deeds at whose recital start 
 
 Her tears, her troops imbibed 
 Fr'^m them that zeal which overcame 
 
 All obstacles, and swept 
 Away in its career the dam 
 
 Of opposition, kept 
 
 Its destined goal and then 
 Enjoyed the gilded rays that shone 
 On reputation's green. 
 
OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 81 
 
 \ 
 
 V. 
 
 The men who saved her had their birth 
 
 Wiihiii. this craggy coast, 
 By England they were driven fortli 
 
 When Erin's bright star lost 
 Its old ascendant ; but the gorged 
 
 And leper'd tyrant rued 
 The clanging iron which she forged 
 
 To fetter the subdued. 
 Upon the plains of Fontenoy 
 
 The rival armies sought 
 Each other ; the artillery, 
 
 The clarion's shrill note. 
 And shriller, harsher still th.'in all, 
 
 The boding shouts of those 
 Who waited but the word to fall 
 
 Upon their faithless foes, 
 Were omens that a motley crowd 
 
 W^ould seek admittance in 
 Tlie land where naught but snowy shrfmd, 
 
 The garb of ghosts, is seen ; 
 I saw the chosen guards of Fr.anee 
 
 Repulsed, again tliey charged, 
 But cuirass lent and broken lance, 
 
 And choicest warriors urged 
 By threat and bribes, by honor's hope, 
 
 To do their devoirs then, 
 Nor rest in their advance nor drop 
 
 The hilt till every vein 
 Was emptied of its fluid, told 
 
 How courage urged the race 
 For Fame ; the veterar corps wore rolled 
 
 Back, broken in disgrace 
 Before the steadv front oT)Dosed 
 
 By England's serried troops, 
 While Gallia's ruptured squares disclosed. 
 
 The frailty of her hopes ; 
 
82 
 
 i 
 
 THE spirit's lament *, 
 
 And Dillon bless'd the overthow, 
 
 The helpless, hapless rout 
 Of his ovni allies, while the glow 
 
 Of intense joy shone out 
 Upon his visage ; Louis marked 
 
 The sudden change, and ire 
 His corrugated features worked, 
 
 Higher still and high'r 
 The angry color mounted till 
 It mantled o'er his brows ; 
 The storm threatened, none could tell 
 
 The consequence, but those 
 Around him augured badly to 
 
 The man who raised his bile ; 
 But Dillon met the monarch's view 
 
 Calm and unmoved the while :— 
 " My Lord, is't thus your nation shows 
 
 Her gratitude, her zeal, 
 From what we see we might suppose 
 
 That in this flight you feel 
 A hellish satisfaction ; say 
 
 Have reptiles dragged their slime, 
 Unwashed by the Atlantic's spray, 
 
 Within our happy clime ? 
 The wild beast caged within his den, 
 
 By gentleness is tamed, 
 \nd cow'rs beneath the glance of men. 
 
 But when you think he's calmed 
 Down to submission, keep him but 
 
 A day or two from food 
 He'll spring upon his keeper s throat 
 And wallow in his blood " 
 
 Thus you 
 We 
 
 ^vhom we have cherished, whom 
 treated as a friend. 
 
 Who obtained the warmest welcome 
 That a people could extend, 
 
■js>&.. : ■ ■!!>§:■ 
 
 
 OR, THE WRONGS OF IREIAND. 
 
 :i 
 
 When you see ni^sfortune threaten us 
 
 Insult us by your smile, — 
 But haste thee to our ancient foes 
 
 And thus complete your guile.'* 
 ' Ay, give the word, my gracious Sire, 
 
 And let us hasten on. 
 But it shall be in quenchless ire, — 
 
 Our road shall be upon 
 The Saxon's sabred body, he 
 
 Shall fef d the crows to day, 
 Whose caw shall be the elegy 
 
 That mourns o'er his clay. 
 You say I'm gladdened ; true, I fee 
 
 A pleasure when I look 
 Upon your cohorts, there, who reel 
 
 Beneath the heavy shock 
 As French and English bayonets cross 
 
 Their points, for if they broke 
 Those barriers m ' men would lose 
 
 The dear, the vengeful stroke, 
 They've waited for this many a day ; 
 
 Then let but Louis tell 
 My 30untrymen to join the fray 
 
 And all will yet be well," 
 The Monarch and the Soldier said. — 
 
 The one was waiting for 
 llic wished for moment that would leac^ 
 
 His longing fellows o'er 
 The maimed and writhing forms, then 
 
 No longer Britain's pride, 
 When Fontenoy, a bed of pain, 
 
 Their empty boasts would chid'3. 
 
 Aoriihi f.ho mirrlif. nf CiuiWn Vin-u-nd 
 
 It staggered in the brunt, 
 A^d hearts beat feebly in the crowd 
 Around, 'till Thomrnd's Count 
 

 84 
 
 THE spirit's lament; 
 
 Besought the privilege to try 
 
 The fortunes of his own 
 Invincible Brigade ; the cry 
 
 Of " Hurry, rush upon 
 The English," was the answer ; quick 
 
 A waving wood was seen ^^ 
 Descending from the hill, a thick 
 And dense impervious screen 
 Of <lust its aid lent to conceal 
 
 The nature of this odd 
 Phenomenon : at length a yell 
 
 Reached where the British stood,— 
 They knew the dreaded sound ; awhile 
 
 They listened in despair, 
 But soon passed off th' electric chill, 
 Thev sent an answering cheer, — 
 As when the Alpine avalanche 
 
 Rolls from the mountain's height 
 To find the vale, and strives to wrench 
 
 The steep rock in its flight, 
 Which for a time defies its force 
 Till helping snows come down 
 And carry in their wasting course 
 
 The giant mass of stone ; 
 So did the whilom victors stand 
 
 The rush of the brigade ; 
 'Twas but a flitting moment and 
 
 Precipitant, dismayed. 
 Like undisciplined rabble, they 
 Fled from the tumult's field : 
 Tlie morning gave t)i n victory, 
 
 The closing eve beheld 
 Tiie vaunters seeking for a place 
 
 Of shelter, and pursued 
 By men who urged the eager chase 
 Athirsting for their blood. 
 
 n 
 

 ' ^pW 'i -rpwm^-' ''A ^^y 
 
 fl 
 
 '-xM. 
 
 ^R, THE WRONGS OF I REXAND. 
 
 Then George had reason to lament ^® 
 
 The cursed penal laws 
 Which from their natal kingdom sent 
 
 The conquerors, because 
 Tliey could not bring themselves to tread 
 
 In heresy's abode ; 
 They'd not for hire renounce their creed 
 
 And spurn at their God. 
 A hundred thousand voices raised 
 
 Their paians to the sky, 
 A hundred thousand lances blazed 
 
 In silver'd gleam on high, 
 And horse hair floated on the wind, 
 
 And timbrel's clash was heard, 
 And every where, before, behind 
 
 The chaii' of France's lord. 
 The daring deeds of Clare were told, 
 
 And Dillon's mourned fall — 
 The bravest of the bi'ave was cold. 
 
 The dewy mists his pall, — 
 And from a hundred thousand throats 
 
 Swell' d the loud warison, 
 And " Faugh a ballagh" blent its notes 
 
 With " Vive le Bourbon"; 
 And in that hour the shamrock's green 
 
 Was greener than before. 
 Its fading hues grew bright again 
 
 On France's fragrant shore ; 
 Its leaves were twined into a crown, 
 
 A souvenir to show 
 That on the triple grass there shone 
 
 Their rich resplendent glow 
 
 Lay trampled on the ground. 
 And Ireland's sons trod on the rag 
 Besmeared with filth, and found 
 
 8- 
 
l->;». 
 
 ! 
 
 '■\m 
 
 gfj THE spirit's lament; 
 
 A nameless joy in rending it ; 
 
 No more its folds should spread 
 High arching over them, how sweet 
 
 *Twas thus to tear each shred 
 Of the vile emblem of their shame t 
 
 So may each flag that ward's, 
 Degraded by a tyrant's name, 
 
 Lie sunk on tyrants' graves. 
 The morning of that hard-fought day 
 
 A shaking throne beheld, 
 The moon-light lent its gentle ray 
 
 The couch of death to gild. 
 And show old Albion's trooper 'neath 
 
 The cuirrassier of Gaul, 
 No more to tread the crispy heath 
 
 Or answer to the call 
 When beat re.eille ; Britannia wept 
 
 The day of Fontenoy, 
 In briny wells her rose was steep'd, 
 
 While bloomed the Fleur de Lys. 
 Where the wide Dnieper dons his coat 
 
 Of adamantine glass, 
 And Poland weeps beneath the knouit, 
 
 A bleeding mangled mass- 
 But supplication's useless now, 
 
 For her are left but two 
 Resources,— to ignobly bow. 
 
 Or with the rifle woo 
 The mountain goddess,— not for this 
 
 Did Kosciusko die. 
 Had Poland now one breast like his 
 
 She'd thunder '' Victory"— 
 E'en there the Irish arm trained 
 
 The Muscovite to war, 
 For tho' at home its lustre waned 
 
 Abroad their nutal star 
 
 /' 
 
 m 
 
OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 h7 
 
 /' 
 
 f 
 
 ft" 
 
 ^» 
 
 Was seen in all its loveliness, 
 
 Illumining the globe 
 And throwing o'er each murky place 
 
 A tasselated robe, 
 Its sheen reflecting ; thus the light 
 
 Within the woodman's hut 
 Obscured by smoke appears not bright, 
 
 Revealing darkness, but 
 The wanderer who lost his way 
 And tries' from forest glades 
 To find an outlet, seeks the ray 
 
 That gilds the leafy shades, 
 But for that taper's kindly glow 
 
 Perchance he would have found 
 A dreamless pillow on the snow 
 
 That canopied the ground. 
 That Empire that has risen from 
 
 Unknown obscurity. 
 And in each region claims a home, 
 
 E'en earth's extremity 
 Yields her obedience, 'neath that corps, 
 
 Hibernia's Brigade, 
 In rudiments of martial lore 
 
 Her infant task essayed. 
 That penetrating genius who 
 
 Created Russia, brought 
 To his assistance one he knew 
 
 Had suffered, bled, and fought, 
 And conquered too ; to him he gave 
 
 The Runic bands to mould ; 
 He found them any thing but brave. 
 
 He left them uncontrolled. 
 To him, too, did the child confide 
 
 The safety of her throne. 
 And he on whom the Czar relied 
 Protected Catherine, — 
 
Mk-M -,■:'■ 
 
 88 
 
 THE spirit's lament ; 
 
 'I 
 
 'ft 
 m 
 
 The records of that nation tell 
 
 His long career of fame, 
 And when reclined within his shell 
 
 DeLaey's honoured name 
 Was whispered thro' the vast extent 
 
 Of Russia's subject soil, 
 llespect her silent tribute lent 
 
 And Pleasure cheeked her smile, 
 And Sorrow o'er his hallowed dust 
 
 The drops of anguish shed, 
 But Friendship's burning spirit most 
 
 Of all bewailed the dead. 
 While Faith above the hero's tomb, 
 
 The Christian's signal placed. 
 And fond companions l^vr from home 
 
 Upon the marble traced 
 Departed valour's lineage, 
 His actions unwrit tliere 
 In golden type upon the page 
 
 Of history appear. 
 Sardinia's Empire, too, resigned 
 
 Her muskets to the charge 
 Of De Lalioche ; she could not fmd 
 
 A fitter one to urge 
 Iler children in the lagging fight 
 
 Or lead them to the breach ; 
 He'd gladly sleep in endless night 
 
 Ere enemy should reach 
 To Cagliari's towers : time 
 
 That throws a shade on all, 
 And as the lamp of life grows dim. 
 
 Allows the flame to fall 
 Which erst had burned brightly, cast 
 
 A flashing cordon o'er 
 His paly temples, to the last 
 He lived in glory's bower. 
 
 ^ is 
 
 y . i" 
 

 % 
 
 OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 Whose were the shouts that swept witli such 
 
 Exhulting sound above 
 The steaming field of red Rosbaeh 1* 
 
 Where Prussia madly strove 
 To foil the force of Swabia's Prince, 
 
 When Erin raised her arm 
 The vaunting foe was seen to wince 
 
 In unconcealed alarm ; 
 His fluttering bosom soon grew cold 
 
 Beneath Ierne*s spear, 
 And far as eye could reach the wold 
 
 Seemed one vast feasted bier ; 
 They came from exiled Ireland, then 
 
 That country's offspring wTote 
 Her character with pointed pen 
 
 Of firm steel, and smote 
 The hug-^- Goliath in his strength, 
 
 Such mad injustice claims ! 
 
 Till Prussia feared to hear at length 
 
 Of Ireland or Fitzjames. 
 Beneath the scorching clime of Ind 
 
 The slave and master met, 
 
 But then no slave, he left behind 
 
 The thongs that cramped his feet, 
 
 He hurled defiance to the base 
 
 Perfidious tyrant who 
 Had sought by murder to erase 
 
 His name and country too 
 From ofi" the world's map ; the hour 
 
 For retribution came. 
 The plunderer was seen to cow'r 
 
 And shiver in her shame. 
 V\ ithm tiie x:,astcru hemisphere 
 
 The gentle Hindoo wiles 
 The day, and to the listening ear 
 Relates the many ills 
 
 h2 
 
 m 
 
00 
 
 THE SPIRIT S LAMENT , 
 
 Of persecuted Hindostau 
 
 Despoiled but still untamed, 
 The land on which the living sun 
 
 Has ever brightest beamed ; 
 He tells of Pondicheny, and 
 
 How European l)ones 
 Lay wliitening on a tropic strand. 
 
 And how Hibernia's sons 
 \^ ith Simoon impetus pressed on 
 Nor stayed till they had seized 
 The Union Jack of Albion 
 
 And hatred's thirst appeased. 
 For many a deed of violence 
 Was then to be paid back, 
 The thought of helpless innoconc<^ 
 
 Expiring on the rack 
 Loiit impetus to every stroke 
 
 The Irish arm gave ; 
 The autocrat was forced to brook 
 
 Tlie fetters of the slave, 
 The hills of Thibet echoed to 
 
 Milesian war-notes, and 
 Beheld the vanquished robber sue 
 
 For mercy from the hand 
 She spurned when 'twas raised to keep 
 
 Away the coming blow; 
 The bravo was compelled to weep 
 
 The scalding drops of wo. 
 And Assam and Affghanistan, 
 
 The Deccan and Cassay, 
 Were covered o'er with England's slain. 
 
 A proof that treachery 
 Will ever meet with its dessert 
 And pay the price of crime, 
 - That vengeance meets the base of heart 
 Be long or short the time. 
 
 v 
 
v 
 
 OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 The Brahmapootra's azure hue 
 
 Was destined to a cliange, 
 Another dye usurped the blue 
 
 It erst brought in its range 
 To the wide Indian Ocean, that 
 
 Unusual tint was forced 
 From springs arterial that of lato 
 
 Thro' human cliannels coursed. 
 Beside tliat river's shore was seen 
 
 The combat fierce and long, 
 Wliere Lally galloped o'er the green 
 
 Avenging Ireland's wrong. 
 Humiliating is the thought 
 
 That tliey to whom the earth 
 Presents its richest gifts are not 
 
 More worthy of their birth ; 
 The " Western world's gem" was made 
 
 For freemen, and that isle 
 Must raise again the dripping l>lade 
 
 And find one more O'Neil. 
 Tho' every method has been tried 
 
 To prejudice the world 
 Against her, Erin still defied 
 
 Her enemy and hurled 
 Each accusation back again, 
 
 And swore it on the hilt ; 
 The facts were proven by the slain, 
 
 Each tournament and tilt 
 Where Death was umpire — not tlio sliow^^ 
 
 Of flimsy pageantry, 
 The masks of lady knights, but tlios 
 
 Where reigns Mortality, — 
 Saw the green streamer towering in 
 
 Its loftiness above 
 The universe's pennants ; men 
 
 Beheld with awe and love 
 
 '91 
 
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 THE spirit's lament; 
 
 + 
 
 The teint of hope, and wondered why 
 
 That flag afar should roam 
 And seek beneath another sky 
 
 The fragrance which at home 
 Should from its every fold arise, 
 
 And thought it strange that they 
 To whom the persecuted flies 
 
 For succour, far away 
 Should travel from their distant shore ; 
 
 That they who vanquished oft 
 The martial Roman, they who tore 
 
 His eagles down and scoffed 
 The tactics of his generals 
 
 When aiding Pict and Scot, 
 Could see their country's teeming vales 
 
 Polluted by the foot 
 Of alien desolators *, will 
 
 No Stauifacher appear, 
 No Wallace, Bruce, no Faust, or Tell, 
 
 Unknowing what is fear, 
 Blow up the trifling sparks that on 
 
 The hearth of freedom shine ? 
 But echo only answers, soon 
 
 The embers will decline. 
 But I forget, alone by peace . 
 
 Must Freedom's temple rise. 
 On Concord's rock must rest its base, 
 
 its richly moulded frieze 
 By Friendslii]y3 chisel must b-^ wrought, 
 
 Its cupola ascend 
 'Mid patriot cheers with ardor fraught, 
 
 Its burning fire shall tend 
 The votaries of every creed 
 
 TT J T-— "U: J. l-„i.^ 
 
 While o'er its pavement boldly tread 
 The guardians of the State ; 
 
 4 
 
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OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
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 The children *neath the Parents' sway 
 
 Shall taste of joy once more, 
 And think upon the hapless day 
 
 Of bondage that is o'er 
 With feelings such as he may have 
 
 Whose vessel has been tost 
 On dancing waters, and who gave 
 
 His life away as lost ; 
 She struck upon a sunken shoal, 
 
 The billows o'er her swept 
 With maniac strength, and every soul 
 
 On board the bark had leaped 
 Into the yawning gulf to try 
 
 If they could reach the strand ; 
 The harrowing shriek of agony 
 Alone has reached the land, 
 Yet still he'll dare the billows' rage, 
 
 He cannot bear to be 
 Thus cooped within his rocking cage, 
 
 Far better sure that he 
 Should try his luck — it is not far. 
 
 Perhaps he may obtain 
 A landing — floating on some spar, 
 
 The shipwrecked yet may gain 
 The coast, or if he follows his 
 
 Companions of the way, 
 How much an easier end were thi» 
 
 Than through the weary day 
 And night die fifty deaths an hour, 
 
 The only voice to cheei*, 
 The seaman's shrilly cry, while low^' 
 
 Above his seeming bier 
 The heavy clouds, as if to form 
 
 T-T« r. 4-1 Wk mini r\n tyr\f\xr 
 
 And overhead the driving storm 
 Whistles mournfully, 
 
94 
 
 THE spirit's lament; 
 
 While he proposed to seek the cliflf 
 
 That reared its dizzy height 
 Along way off, a tiny skiff 
 
 Has dared the ocean's might, 
 He does not think that boat can live, 
 
 Upon the Alpine wave, 
 Ho deems not that it can survive. 
 
 The sea must be his grave ; 
 She has put back again, what now ? 
 
 The cheer again arose, 
 Again she turns her slender prow 
 
 And high the paddle throws 
 The spray upon each side ; at times 
 
 He cannot see at all 
 The swift canoe ; the sacred hymns, 
 
 Till then forgot, recall 
 The days of careless, guileless youth, 
 
 Those days for ever fled, 
 When Virtue, hand in hand with Truth, 
 
 His infant footsteps led ; 
 He says the long neglected pray'r, 
 
 His brow is wet with dew. 
 Repentance is engraven there, 
 
 Eternity's in view ; 
 What is that near which cuts its way 
 
 With rapid stroke of oar, ? 
 Haste mariner, it cannot stay 
 One minute, moment, more. 
 The ship is settling down, within 
 
 The vortex will be caught 
 Thy reckless rescuers, — ^liasten then ; 
 
 He sprang and gained the yacht 
 Ere yet the bubbling vasty wild 
 Could drag within its breast, 
 His shipmates' dreary tomb, the child 
 Of chance and danger ;— rest 
 
 / 
 
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OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 95 
 
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 Restores his wonted energies, 
 One sigh to Death he cast, 
 One thought to peril wliich he sees 
 
 No longer, it is past : 
 A grasp to those who saved to prove 
 
 The warmth of his heart. 
 Then- cause is his for ever, love 
 
 For them shall not depart 
 But with the latest throb of life. 
 
 And he's himself again. 
 He'll brave the elemental strife 
 
 No more upon the main. 
 Thus shall all religions unite 
 
 For Ireland's common good, 
 Crach time as on its firm site 
 
 The fabric shall have stood. 
 No foreigner shall press the vine 
 Which Irishmen have trained, 
 No foreign lip shall stain that wine, 
 
 Twill be by Erin drained; 
 Her jackall neighbours, too, shall find 
 
 Their int'rest in the change. 
 When these shall not attempt to bind, 
 
 Those shpll not seek to range 
 To ivied Italy or France, 
 
 To Germany or Spain, — 
 The sphere of ladies' witching glance,- 
 
 Or o'er the Indian plain. 
 And with them take the amulet 
 
 Whose wond'rous pow'r can bring 
 Upon their enemies a fate, 
 
 Dismal, withering; 
 It beckons conquest Jo their side 
 
 Vi iiCH SI 
 
 Arrayed in gorgeous garments dyed 
 In Eden's rubied sky. 
 
9(> THE spirit's lament; 
 
 In narrowing circles o'er the heads 
 
 Of hostile squadrons, and 
 While yet her opening wings she spreads 
 
 Above the armed band : 
 A second and she would have lit 
 
 Among them, but she hears 
 The word of necromancy, it 
 
 The radiant goddess fears ; 
 She hastens to the ensign where 
 
 The Harp of Taia dwells 
 And hovers o'er the Irish spear, 
 
 'Neath which the foeman reels. 
 Impoverished tho' my country be 
 
 Her have the muses cheered 
 In dark hour of despondency. 
 
 And every art revered ; 
 Tho' plundered still she was not poor. 
 
 Her character enriched. 
 Thro' threatening skies she btill would soar 
 
 Ttio' btorm spirits screeched, 
 Tho' she has been attainted, still 
 
 She was not titleless, 
 For patents of distinction will 
 
 Be bought by services ; 
 Undue severity has forced 
 
 That land to eminence 
 And when her prospects seemed the worst 
 
 As if Omnipotence 
 Wished to display His deep dissent 
 
 From persecution's code. 
 The European continent 
 
 In admiration bowed 
 Low to her meteored galaxy, 
 
 That in the zenith shone 
 In crystalline transparency 
 
 And gilt the horizon, 
 
 / 
 
|u>*iiii 
 
 V 
 
 OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 The regions of her exile were 
 Made famous by her deeds, 
 Inured to follow at the share 
 Of valor, when the weeds 
 Of cowardice came in her jmth 
 
 She ploughed them up amain, 
 And scattered by the hand of wrath 
 
 They grew not there again ; 
 To fame she has been fettered by 
 
 Malignity, who tried 
 To cover her with infamy. 
 
 Nor leave her in the wide 
 World a friend, but all in vain, 
 
 His odious wiles were scorned, 
 The envied captive's festering chain 
 
 With laurels was adorned. 
 Within their own secluded glens 
 
 Her children, tho' few, 
 To Freedom sent their dying strains. 
 
 And even yet they do 
 Occasionallv raise the voice 
 In praise of her they love 
 And worship, tho' they can't rejoice 
 
 Within her shady grove ; 
 'Tis all that's left tliem now, the day 
 
 Is gone when other sound 
 From that of softened melody 
 
 A startling echo found 
 Within their bosoms ; be it so. 
 They are not much to blame. 
 For many and many a year ago 
 They felt the blush of shame, 
 And often sought to pale the hue 
 
 That overspread the face. 
 By seizing on the tree that grew 
 Near Glory's dwelling place, 
 
 97 
 
!)8 
 
 THE spirit's lament; 
 
 From leaves of >yhich they might distil 
 
 Invigorating drops. 
 Whose magical effeets would wile 
 
 The tint of blasted hopes 
 Away, nor leave a track behind 
 To mark where it had been ; 
 l^ut what they wished they could not find, 
 
 The color still is seen ; 
 And how is named this much prized tree 
 
 That tempts within their sight?— 
 It grows not where is slavery,^ 
 That loaded tree is * Right,' 
 Another means they tried to chase 
 
 Coercion's blistering mark, 
 They thought if they could not erase 
 
 Completely brand so dark, 
 It could be lessened so that scarce 
 
 A vesti£re would remain 
 Upon the^cheek, although some scars 
 Mi"-ht be where was the stain ;— 
 It was to check the stream that rushed 
 
 At thought of servitude, 
 If freely from their bodies gushed 
 
 The quickly clotting flood, 
 Nor much remained behind, the rose 
 
 Would shun the hectic skin,— 
 They tried it, still the current flows 
 
 As rapidly as when 
 They first began the contest ; naught 
 
 But breath of harmony 
 Can wipe off any thing that's wrought 
 , By tool of Tyranny. 
 Each struggle wnicu uicj m....t- ^- 
 
 Their fetters to the ground 
 Cieated but a heavy clash 
 And left an angry wound, 
 
 I 
 
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4 
 
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 OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 And tightened still more firmly 
 
 The massive cincture's hold : — 
 It may be better patiently 
 To wait now till a bold 
 Unanimous, determined pull 
 
 Shall rupture them in twain, 
 While shouts of gladness, swelling full. 
 
 Shall rise o'er sea and plain. 
 How often some pretended friend 
 
 Has shown to them a key, 
 .By which he promised they should wend 
 
 Their way to liberty ! 
 Deceit '»ith Murder whispered, and 
 
 He caught the ore for which 
 The tir goi3 of his filthy hand 
 We:e 3ver known to itch ; 
 The pkii was formed 'tween the two, 
 
 Before the bars had dropped 
 Which clasped their feet the deadly blow^ 
 
 Their hurried breathing stopped ; 
 Unsuspecting did they fall, — 
 
 But they deserved their fate, — 
 And Murder feasted upon all 
 
 The victims of deceit ; 
 They had no right to put their trust 
 
 In Simulation's words, 
 Which were but as the air-swept dust, — 
 
 Each century records 
 Some scene of equal treachery. 
 
 That tends to immolate 
 To libertine barbarity 
 
 This foully vended State. 
 Their spirits are not broken yet 
 
 Altho' they may be bent. 
 They're like the trefoil at my feet. 
 On which the tempests vent 
 
 99 
 
100 THE spirit's lament; 
 
 Tlioir bootless might, laltho' the ash 
 
 Bo shivered to the root 
 And scatter in its headlong crash 
 
 The fragrant flow'r and fruit ; 
 Tho' beaten oft, come wo or weal. 
 
 They'll tug at fortune's oar, 
 And on her empire spread the sail^ 
 
 No matter which the shore 
 They anchor at, they try to reach 
 
 Prosperity's, if it 
 Be unattainable, the beach 
 
 That rises opposite 
 In cheerless bleakness — a mere crag — 
 
 Where tottering and toil-worn 
 The panting seamen feebly drag 
 
 The pinnace that has borne 
 Them onward thro' the element. 
 
 Bent, battered, with each shock ; 
 , Some years, it may be, must be spent 
 
 Upon the barren rock, — 
 Yet even there they try to make 
 
 Themselves contented ; when 
 Some calmer day arrives they'll take 
 
 The pinnace out again. 
 But newly rigged, while at the helm 
 
 A surer pilot stands. 
 Who'll guide them to a tranquil realm, 
 
 Avoiding those quicksands 
 Whose dangerous proximity 
 The other did not know, 
 Or knowing did not let them lie 
 
 To leeward of the bow. 
 But not content to prey on man 
 
 The insect vulture soared. 
 To leave its loathsome trail upon 
 The temple of the Lord ; 
 
 1 
 
I 
 
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 OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 Anci where are now the abject rac«i 
 
 That first defiled His shrine ? 
 Their memories are in disgrace, 
 
 Their unblcst dust within 
 The mausoleum, hurrying 
 
 Like them to sure decay ; 
 But time that hurries on will bring 
 
 But nearer still the day 
 When Heresy, arraigned before 
 
 The stern Bench of Heaven, 
 The broken dec'logue will deplore 
 
 But cannot bo forgiven ; 
 His doom shall be a bed of flame. 
 
 The scorpion his mate, — 
 In vain he'll call on Mercy's name, 
 
 Contrition comes too late. 
 His drink the burning sweat that drips, 
 
 Forced out by agony, 
 While every time the draught he sips 
 
 Hell rings in revelry, 
 For as it adds a pang the more 
 
 To wo's intensity, 
 So do the demons laughing roar 
 
 At torture's ecstacy ; 
 Encixcled by the twining snake 
 
 That hisses out the fire 
 Of molten metals, he shall take, 
 
 While seeking to respire. 
 The volumed stream into his throat 
 
 At every smothered breath, 
 While o'er his ceaseless torments gloat 
 
 The messengers of Death, 
 Who tho' they deluge him with each 
 
 Disease to mortals known, 
 Yet cannot — ^"tis beyond their reach — 
 
 Bring Death himself upon 
 
 101 
 
102 
 
 THE spirit's lament ; 
 
 The child of sm to end his fears • 
 
 There must the damned one weep. 
 The olyect of each fiend's sneers, 
 
 While he is there no sleep 
 Must visit him ; how long is that ? 
 
 When keen October's blasts 
 The moaning forests agitato, 
 
 And every proud oak casts 
 His summer garments on the earth, 
 
 That would have wooed the might 
 Of rude Boreas, and puts forth 
 
 His bare arms for the fight 
 Which hoary winter threatens to 
 
 Commence, — already 's some 
 Evidence of marching foe. — 
 
 His sable banners come, — 
 Those dark jionds ycader,— well, if tlion 
 
 Weak man could count the leaves 
 That lie upon the soil, or when 
 
 The ever-heaving waves 
 Will be divided so as to 
 
 Enumerate the drops 
 Which make the ocean's ebb and How,. 
 
 Or as the peasant stoops 
 To reap the corn when he'll con 
 
 The number of the grains, 
 Then might I hope to count upon 
 
 The period when his pains 
 Sliall cease to rack him ; when the cell 
 
 lie raves in shall have sank 
 From its foundation, when the bell 
 
 Of religion shall clank 
 In holy peal the roof beneath 
 
 Where ht and Satan dwell. 
 When Peace and Charity and Faith 
 Shall leave their lovely dell 
 
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OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 103 
 
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 In Paradise to list on to 
 
 The biiter curse and yell 
 Of devils, he shall upward go 
 
 And quit the depths of Hell ; 
 There, as he'll gnash his chaitoiing teeth, 
 
 And cringe beneath the stripes 
 "^Vhich yelping imps inflictf v/hile soeth 
 
 The fires around his lips, 
 Shall Lucifer desire him look 
 
 Around him and behold 
 The lot of those who "^»nld not brook 
 
 To live in the « Or. Fold, '~ 
 There is the promised land of there 
 
 Who v/ould not fc .»' to Rome, 
 And as he sneaks more fuel throws 
 
 To aggravate his doom, 
 And bids him feast his eyes upon 
 
 His fellow-schismatics, 
 Whose sharp and sheathless weapons shone 
 
 O'er Irish Catholics r — 
 And did he think when hollooing 
 
 His ban-dogs on the trail 
 Of Piety, that he would bring 
 
 Himself to place of wail ? 
 Or did he believe the murmur that 
 
 V/as uttered in his ear, 
 Which bade him on and desecrate 
 
 Each holy house of pray'r ? 
 And that for his obedience to 
 
 Such whisperings us those, 
 His soul should ever wander thro' 
 
 The regions of repose ; — 
 At all events he well obeyed 
 
 The mandate,— his reward 
 
 HI _ _ _T_. 
 e nas uu 
 
 
 *\ 
 
 Is a celestial bard 
 
104 THE spirit's lament; 
 
 Attuning liis soft lyre to sound 
 
 The praises of the swain,* 
 Who in love's atlas quickly found 
 
 A rosy ^^ath to gain 
 A seat in Eden's garden, and 
 
 That noise he thinks a howl 
 Is but the song of merry band. 
 
 The feast and flow of soul. 
 Why does he leap so ? he is not 
 
 Yet used to those delights 
 Which are blest sacrileges lot, — 
 
 They are not serpents' bites ; 
 Those feelings which seem to distress 
 
 The biblical so much 
 Are but Elysium's happiness ; — 
 
 Why does he wince and crouch ? 
 Can he expect so soon to bear 
 
 Beatitude's extreme, 
 Nor yield a sigh nor drop a tear 
 
 Thro' pleasure so supreme ; — 
 Why does he throw about his feet ? 
 
 Impossible, — it can't 
 Be caused by an excess of heat ; 
 
 'Tis strange that he should pant 
 As if he were presented from 
 
 Inhaling the fresh air ; 
 If he should wish for some more room 
 
 He'll find it yonder there 
 Where Luther is, who has a whole 
 ' Red bower to himself, — 
 Or haply he might like " Old Noll" 
 
 As co-mate, — that proved elf 
 
 /-\i?_.^ 
 
 
 then let him choose 
 
 His place with either ghost ; 
 Or should he either yet refuse, 
 Why still are left a host 
 
 i 
 
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 OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 From whom to pick the one who* 11 share 
 
 His centuries of bliss, — • 
 He can't be disappointed — there 
 
 Is one, or this, or this. 
 He might wish for a paramour, — 
 
 For all thro' Eden's glades 
 Are beauteous houris gliding o'er 
 
 Their chequered lights and shades, — 
 Then let him please himself, — there's Bess, 
 
 The boast of Britain's page, 
 Of manners bland, of sweet address, 
 
 And of that certain age 
 That promises continuance 
 
 Of all the gifts which she 
 Mav first bestow ; for continence 
 
 She gained celebrity 
 When living, tho' some slanderers 
 
 Assailed her virgin fttme. 
 But obloquy thus ever pours 
 
 His vial full of shame 
 On those w^ho utter not a word 
 
 Of adulation to 
 The idol — nothing can retrod 
 
 That poisoned vial's flow. 
 Some people say that Buckingham 
 
 Once tendered her his suit. 
 And that the gentle sceptred dame 
 
 Became his prostitute, — 
 How could she be aspersed so ! fie, 
 
 They well deserve rebuke, — 
 Mere calumny, — she did not lie 
 
 Xii tiiU iirii:3 Ul tliC i-ruikC 
 
 Of Essex ; — yes, they did assert 
 That she was Raleigh's quean, — 
 
 'Twas truthless, it was malapert. 
 It never could have been ; 
 
 105 
 
106 THE spirit's lament; 
 
 'TIs true that gentleman relied 
 
 On her esteem, that's all, 
 Her Majesty has been belied : — 
 
 Ay, but 'twa'^ for the fall 
 Of Smerwick, for his services 
 
 In pouring out the blood 
 Of seven hundred enemies ^ 
 
 He'd forty thousand broad *^ 
 Acres from her ladyship ; 
 
 But were it not for deeds 
 Like those she'd not be there to trip 
 
 So lightly o'er those meads 
 So pregnant with each luxury 
 
 That men or aagels know, — 
 Be his that gem of modesty ! 
 
 See the etheriai glow 
 Of radiance that surrounds her limbs, 
 
 See how the sunshine clasps 
 Her in its beams, its brightness dims 
 
 Her sight, — they are not asps 
 That cling on so tenaciously 
 
 And nestle in her breast, — 
 On flow'rs the painted butterfly 
 
 Delights to take its rest, — 
 And so it now reposes on 
 
 The fairest flower there ; 
 Let him too pluck the sweetest one 
 
 That grows in that parterre. 
 Or if he should desire to see 
 The wonders of each cave 
 In reahns of eternity, 
 
 If pleasing, he can have 
 The services of Orange Will, , 
 
 Wholl guide him thro' each maze, 
 And lead him to each sloping hill 
 Resplendent in the blaze 
 
 1 
 
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 OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 Of limitless magnificence, 
 
 And tell him of the times 
 He made religion a pretence 
 To perpetrate the crimes 
 For which his health is toasted yet 
 
 By drunken bacchanp^s, 
 Whose greatest pleasure is to meet 
 
 O'er ever bubbling wells 
 Of blood of fellow man, and how. 
 
 When Limerick was won 
 By guile, his marshal dared avow 
 
 A document which none 
 Of Orange feelings could abide, — 
 
 But Prudence bridled Zeal, 
 They waited for the turning tide. 
 
 When Catholics should feel 
 The lacerating prick of spur 
 
 In its full force again, 
 And fools should bear the further slur 
 
 Of believing Ginkles' pen ; 
 Hr if he should suppose a king 
 
 Would not be complaisant 
 Enough to show him every thing, 
 
 Why many more would grant 
 His wishes, and would satisfy 
 
 Each query, every thought, — 
 The children of equity, — 
 
 Whose acts of meekness brought 
 Them to the cloudless climes where they 
 
 Were lords of e. cry thing. 
 Who passed each quickly fleeting day 
 
 In dulv ministerina" 
 Unto the monarch of these halls, 
 
 Whose solitary cheer 
 It was to see that nothing palls 
 On eye or lip or ear ; 
 
 107 
 
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 J08 THE spirit's lament; 
 
 If they complain of dullness soon 
 
 Each gaudy chamber peals 
 With swelling harpsichord whose tone 
 
 Now lowly laintly steals 
 Along the carpeted corridors, 
 And bears the captive snnse 
 Away, as when the eagle soars 
 
 And cleaves the elements 
 While pow'rless in the giant's clasp 
 
 The trembling lamb nor bleats 
 Nor struggles much within the grasp, 
 
 As to the young eaglets 
 He hurries with the tender prey. 
 
 Who ravenously dine 
 Upon the booty,— so do they 
 
 The mellow sounds drink in ; 
 Again in louder higher key 
 
 It reaches to the dome 
 Of the vast building, instantly 
 The charmed audience come 
 Around the minstrel-ravisher. 
 
 As if the brilliant spark 
 Of genius radiating there 
 
 Could, like the tuneful lark. 
 Be caught and caged within their souls,- 
 
 But genius flies pursuit. 
 Her witching strain the heart controls. 
 
 But should she, rudely shut 
 Within the prison door, be forced. 
 
 She'd sooner pine away, 
 Untasting aught, than be coerced 
 
 To warble harmony ; — 
 She can not and she will not sing 
 
 Her once accustomed lay, 
 And there, in silent sutfering. 
 She'll sorrow night and day. 
 
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4 
 
 1 
 
 
 OR, THE WRONGS OF IREXAND. 
 
 Should Holland's Prince not suit his mind, 
 
 Let him look where the moon, — 
 The ether's empress, — unconfined 
 
 By gaoler clou' t, pours down 
 Her gifts phosphoric, one of them 
 
 Whose countenances wear — 
 He but imagines they look grim — 
 
 A Vue they bring from her, 
 Shall be his Palinurus thro' 
 
 Th* incomparable lawns 
 Where incense breathes, and zephyrs wo 
 
 The Dryads and the Fauns ; 
 Each one when on the upper earth 
 
 Was Rapine's bondsman, so 
 His friend must be a man of worth 
 
 On whom he may bestow 
 His confidence, for England tried 
 
 Them all and found them pure ; 
 And they on whom she has relied 
 
 He may depend are sure 
 And steady in their duties ; then 
 
 Each one is truly brave : 
 They all were actors in some scene 
 
 Whose sequel was the grave. 
 See Bagnal, Spencer, and Carew, 
 
 And Gormanstown, Mountjoy, 
 With Berkley, Pearce, and Wihnot too, 
 
 And Savage, Flower and Grey,** 
 And Lambert, fcjtrafford, Morison, 
 
 With Davies, Trevor, Coote, 
 And Chichester, and Skeffington, 
 
 And lying Hume to boot. 
 And Ireton too, — did he but know 
 
 Thnt mildest of all men ! 
 Wl'iCre all are good, e'en here below — 
 
 Ahem — above, he's seen, 
 
 109 
 
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110 
 
 THE SPIRIT'3 LAMENT ; 
 
 With outstretched hands uplifted, whUe 
 
 The adjuration atreams 
 So sweetly from his mouth, whose smile 
 
 Like that of cherub seems ; 
 But 'tis his nature thus to be 
 
 In meditation lost, — 
 As soldier he loved piety, 
 
 He does so now as ghost ; 
 But for him Ireland would be now 
 
 O'er whelmed in the slough 
 Of barbarism, for him flow 
 
 The benedictions of 
 T'iat country ; — let him choose from them 
 
 The partner of his w^eal. 
 But Ireton is the fav'rite, him 
 
 All recommend for zeal 
 And steady vigor ; let him take 
 
 The rigid Puritan 
 To guide him harmless thro' each brake, 
 
 Conduct him o'er each lawn. 
 What ! stamping unremittingly, — 
 
 How odd he can't be still, — 
 He must be struck with idiotcy, 
 
 He's wrong, he cannot feel 
 Excruciating torments — tliose 
 
 Sensations which annoy 
 Are but the thorns of the rose 
 
 That prick, but by and by 
 They'll lead him to a chosen spot 
 
 Wherein the rose is free 
 From thorns ; the noviciate's lot 
 
 At firsf. is niiro^a.t.oT'v 
 
 At least 'tis relatively so 
 To bliss incomparable 
 Hereafter his, but he must go 
 Thro* process suitable, 
 
 i 
 
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OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 Ill 
 
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 That each deep spot may be erased, 
 
 The consequence of sin, 
 Until his spirit is released 
 
 For ever from its chain." 
 Thus will the Tempter ridicule 
 
 The keenness of his pangs, 
 While grinning devils madly pull 
 
 The wretch, relieved by gangg 
 Of torturers continually. 
 
 Thus will it be for aye ; 
 Compassionless hostility 
 
 His fate from day to da)% — 
 No, not a moment's respite, — the 
 
 Same mercy which he gave 
 To fellow creatures, that shall he 
 
 Then in his turn have ; 
 For ever ever burning on 
 
 Yet ever unconsumed, 
 While God exists on Heaven's throne. 
 
 Shall live the Heaven doomed. 
 Britannia ! on thy name the blot 
 
 Of sacrilege remains. 
 Its tenets you have got by rote. 
 
 By its infernal means 
 You left this land a monument 
 
 Of abject poverty — 
 The theatre of discontent. 
 
 The seat of misery ; 
 You ever sought to undermine 
 
 The ' cloud-capped' Temple's base, 
 And let the desolators in 
 
 To drag it from its place, 
 Nor leave a stone to mark its site, 
 
 Nor spare its surpliced prit)st, 
 To spurn at each holy rite. 
 
 And in its chancsl feast 
 
112 
 
 THE spirit's l/ment; 
 
 Their eyes upon the broken shrine 
 
 And on the shattered cross, 
 First trampling on decrees divine 
 
 And then on human laws ; 
 If any thing were wanted to* 
 Display the changless fo-ith 
 Of Rome's religion, and to show 
 
 The pure unerring truth 
 Of Peter's Jesus-chartered creed. 
 
 That church's triumph in 
 This isle is proof enough, indeed,. 
 
 Ofits high origin; 
 As far as ken may pierce it rears- 
 
 Its pyramidal height. 
 Its minister unshrinking hears 
 
 Around its top the might 
 Of angry storms, and looks down. 
 
 Upon the rained pile 
 Of pigmy imitations thrown 
 
 Upon the world's soil ; 
 There stands the venerable mass 
 
 Uninjured still by time, 
 With gates of steel and roof of brasS;, 
 
 The landmark of each clime^ 
 To show to erring man the ark 
 
 Wherein resides the dove 
 That found the oVive branch, the bark 
 
 Of penitence and love ; 
 There lias the splendid fabric stood 
 
 Immutable 'mid change, 
 Porv,or.<-Pf1 bv the martyr's blood, 
 
 No effort can darange 
 Its awful beauty, there it glows. 
 
 Illumed by Heaven's sky, 
 " The solemn relic of what ivas" 
 Also of " what must be 
 
 / 
 
 W 
 
 ^ 
 
OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 113 
 
 
 m 
 
 The grand memorial, which nor Age 
 
 Could crumble in its march, — 
 Nor deadly Persecution's rage 
 
 Disturb a single arch 
 In its foundation, — nor could all 
 
 Earth's revolutions shake 
 A pebble from its buttressed wall, — 
 
 Nor could Hell's thunders make 
 A single breach therein ; it tow'rs 
 
 Like some proud Appenine 
 On which the tempest monarch low'rs 
 
 When sunbeams do not shine, 
 While earth is rocking at its feet, 
 
 A grand yet fearful sight, 
 And lightning throws the branching sheet 
 
 Of flame around its height, 
 It mocks the winds that o'er it chase 
 
 Each other angrily, 
 Securely centred on the base 
 
 Of its eternity, — 
 Unlike the building raised by men, — 
 
 That stronger grows by years, 
 As it arose it still is seen 
 
 As beautiful, while theirs 
 AVill yield baneath the slightest gust. 
 
 But 'tis no wonder ; this 
 Was raised by architects of dust, 
 
 While that was reared by His 
 Almighty hand : to-day a sect 
 
 Is launched — to-morrow sees 
 The shi}) with, all its cargo wreck'd 
 
 By schism's sudden breeze. 
 Thus must it be. for Grod has said 
 
 The Church that's not of Him 
 Will fall, by truthless doctrine sway'd 
 
 Beneath the wind of whim ; 
 
114 
 
 THE SPIRIT S LAMENT ; 
 
 I i 
 
 Wlien haggard winter first arrives, 
 
 Men see its wreaths of snow 
 With gladness, tho' no flower survives 
 
 Its visit, and they go 
 Dehghted o'er the sinking drifts, 
 
 'Neath wliich some days since grew 
 The primrose, now no daisy lifts 
 
 Its head to greet the view ; 
 The downy moisture for a while 
 
 Falls noi, its feathered track 
 Is missed, 'tis followed by the chill 
 
 And cutting air, they lack 
 The fireside's solace, then a thaw 
 
 Takes place, the slipp'ry road 
 Is born of the fleecy suow, — 
 
 They cannot go abroad 
 Without a feeling of disgust. 
 
 They dread the miry lane, 
 They wish again the line of dust, 
 
 Or sleet, or hail, or rain. 
 Or anything to clear away 
 
 The nuisance that's knee deep 
 On every causeway, — they must stay 
 
 Within the house and peep 
 Thro' curtained windows on the streets 
 
 To see if there's a chance 
 Of getting out ; what's that which meets 
 
 The watcher's anxious glance ? 
 'Tis falling with a movement slow. 
 
 And gentle as the swans 
 That graceful in their plumage go 
 
 To bathe in limpid ponds, — 
 
 Those feelings are dispelled 
 Which pressed on them before, the thought 
 Of consequence revealed 
 
 V 
 
 «! 
 
OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 115 
 
 I 
 
 V 
 
 « 
 
 1 
 
 Not to their minds the road of mud, 
 
 To follow from the guest 
 They gave such welcome to, — they view'd 
 
 The matter in its best 
 And present light, they did not think 
 
 That every time it came 
 The filth would fill the rut and sink, 
 
 And that of course the same 
 Sensations which oppressed before. 
 
 A like cause would renew, — 
 They have their choice, and so once more 
 
 They revel and run through 
 The concrete fluid, and forgot 
 
 That long as it is heap'd 
 Upon the fields no kindly heat 
 
 Will enter ; they'll be kept 
 Without that influence which brings 
 
 Their hidden treasures forth, — 
 When winter leaves the green grass springs 
 
 Up in its vernal birth ; 
 How different is the landscape then I 
 
 The mild and balmy sky. 
 The laughing hill, the sraiung glen, 
 
 Speak eloquently 
 Of nature's goodness, — ^but for those, 
 
 Whose late delight had been 
 An endlessness of dreary snows, 
 
 How rapturous the scene ; 
 They wonder why they were content 
 
 Beneath his moody teign. 
 And never wish to see the print 
 
 Of Winter's foot again^ 
 
 Tlins An +lio«f* Iivino" in fViA nhiirf>.l» 
 ^..i ^ - _ _ 
 
 Of Schism, long as they 
 Are underneath its flimsy porch 
 liOok on its fallacy. 
 
116 
 
 THB spirit's lament; 
 
 \ 
 
 A» tho' 'twere cert'^ inty, but if 
 
 Tlio horizon of Rome 
 Should send a ghnimer thro' its roof, 
 
 It quick dispels the gloom 
 That cast a murkiness on all 
 
 Tlie tenement's extent, 
 'Till lit up by the borans that fall 
 
 From that bright firmament. 
 Its tenets, like the winter's snow 
 
 Creating mire, but led 
 To paths of error ; when the glow 
 
 Of truth streamed overhead 
 Those errors vanished — as beneath 
 
 The warmth of the sun 
 The mass that pressed upon the heath 
 
 Was disi^ipatedsoon ; 
 And as the others marvelled how 
 
 They ^orc the winter's sway. 
 With kindred feelings do these now 
 
 Look back upon the day 
 They hugged that doctrine to their breast 
 
 That plunged them in the maze 
 Where Falsehood, in silk trappings drest. 
 
 Held up the veil of gauze 
 That screened each blcnisli from tho sight, 
 
 And threw its sha^!l•^'■ •:• 
 Defects concealed until the light 
 
 From Wisdom's planet shone 
 And pierced the cov'ring, when they leave 
 
 The iuscder to his feats 
 Of necromancy, they may have 
 
 Who wis^. the empty seats. — 
 And where are now those sects that pprunsr 
 
 Some years, nay months, ago ? 
 Their mourning elegies are sung 
 
 As soon as born — so 
 
 \ 
 
 1 
 
 
w. 
 
 \ 
 
 OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 'Twill ever be ; e*en as I look 
 IJp-jn the " Sister Isle,"— 
 Both sneer and wrong must Erin brook ; 
 
 She's nicknamed Sister, while 
 The one that jeers her with the name 
 
 Would wish her deep -nthin 
 The bosom of the sea ; what sham* 
 
 To mock the grief she's in !— 
 Well, there the reformation's light 
 
 Is waning from its old 
 Reflected lustre ; soon the night 
 
 Cf darkness will enfold 
 Jta borrowed honors ; every hour 
 
 Its worshipper.^ decrease, 
 As thro' scce^ ion's zenith ?oaT 
 
 Some other stars whose grace 
 Attracts awhile, until they fall 
 
 From their high aldtude ; 
 But they will seek for more till al) 
 
 The meteoric brood 
 Have paled in Fashion's sky ; anon 
 
 The ever-burning orb. 
 Whose glory's of itself alone, 
 
 Their vision will absord ; 
 Entirely suppliant they'll bend 
 
 In fealty before 
 Its glittering disc, co which they'll send 
 
 Tb 1 homage evermore. — 
 The ..alo of celestial fire 
 
 Around the Temple's top 
 The leaguering hosts could not inspire 
 
 With awe, nor make them stop 
 In their assault ; no, onward still 
 
 The Anglicans advanced, 
 Whil3 to the touch of armed he^l 
 The charger proudly pranced. . 
 
 117 
 
so England failed 
 
 118 THE spirit's lament; 
 
 That Temple was protected by 
 An unseen hand ; no pow'r 
 Upon the earth can hope to vie 
 With His who stills the roar 
 Of whu'l winds 
 
 To do her dark intent, 
 Tho' helping her Hell's bolts assailed 
 
 Each gate and battlement, — 
 Fanaticism's fiend blew 
 
 The signal which should call 
 His bands together to cut thro' 
 The guard that girt the wall. 
 And Heresy's grim Demon foamed 
 
 With madness when the troop 
 Of British mercenaries loomed 
 
 Upon his sight ; no whoop 
 Of triumph issued from their lip ' 
 
 To glad their master's heart, — 
 As when adown the icy steep 
 Desjends the wearied hart 
 With lagging pace,— for all the more 
 
 The hunter has pursued 
 Tlie fleet limbed one,— the well-known horn 
 
 Prolongs the echoes loud, 
 And tells of coming enemy,—- 
 
 She can't avoid her fate, 
 Before her overhanging lie 
 
 The rocks, she can't retreat 
 Behind, they're there who seek her life. 
 
 With look of wild despair 
 Around, she waits the ready knife, — 
 
 A gurgling noise,__and th':;re, 
 Upon her mountain haunt, she is 
 
 The breezes rival then 
 No longer, — as her starting eyes 
 Looked round for succor when 
 
 I 
 
 #f. 
 
 \ 
 
 T 
 
 j 
 
OR, THE WRONUS OF IRELAND. 
 
 119 
 
 4 
 
 V 
 
 1 
 
 The cliff opposed her progress, so 
 
 Did the low servile mob 
 Of beaten escaladers throw 
 
 A timid look, the throb 
 Within each breast beat quicker, yet 
 
 No knife to them decreed 
 A death of violence, a threat. 
 
 If they should not succeed. 
 Was uttered,— it was useless— bribes 
 
 Were had recourse to, — sneers 
 And raillery and cutting gibes, 
 
 And adjuration's tears 
 Were tried, but they were useless too ; 
 
 The garrison defied 
 The straining efforts of the crew 
 
 Of infidels who plied 
 Their engines of destruction ; thick 
 
 And fast the missiles sped 
 Upon their way, while charging quick 
 
 The storming party, led 
 By their commanders, swearing at 
 
 Discomfiture, renewed 
 The contest but to dissipate 
 
 Their hopes ; again they " chewed 
 The cud of disappointment" ;— <' down, 
 
 My own guards, to your lairs 
 And wait there 'till you're summoned ; soon, 
 
 If not by strength, by snares, 
 We'll gain an entrance ; be well stored 
 
 With weapons when I call, 
 Eor Albion has pledged her word 
 
 That vnnrlpr r^ilo rvinD+ ■Pn.ll . 
 
 And who is equal to the task 
 
 If Pandemonium's aid 
 Should fail ? be ready when I ask 
 
 Your service'' ;— they delayed 
 
^itr ) gs»msM a ftmka* a i ^a mmni \ 
 
 j^Q THE spirit's lament; 
 
 No longer,— at the drei-i command 
 
 They hurried to the pit 
 Unfathomed; but the savage band 
 
 111 British pay submit 
 Their plans in Council, on the coursa 
 
 By which they'll win alone 
 The fortress,— stratagem and force 
 Are canvassed,— but there's One 
 Who watches o'er the citadel, — 
 The Saviour's own abode, — 
 Who'll save it from the wiles of Hell, 
 
 That sentinel is God. 
 How was the servant of the Lord 
 
 Used by the factious crew 
 That in their wrath thro' Ireland poured ? 
 
 Was he degraded too, 
 As were her people? or was he 
 
 Respected and esteemed 
 As His apostle e'er should be ? 
 
 Was His disciple deemed 
 Deserving of the rabble's praise ? 
 
 Did slander pass him by 
 Unharmed ? Was the distained vase 
 
 Of lurid calumny. 
 Whose noxious vapours poison wher© 
 They touch, raised o'er his head — 
 A boon reluctant ? Did the cheer 
 
 Of admiration speed 
 His passage ? — or was ht allowed, 
 
 Unnoticed and unknown. 
 Contented in his solitude. 
 To live, retired; alone. 
 Far from the tyrant's angry frown, 
 
 Unmeddling in affairs 
 Of kingdoms, an eternal crown 
 The object of hifl cares? 
 
 1 
 
 i 
 
 1 
 
 . 
 
 s 
 
OR, THE WRONGS OF IREXAND. 
 
 121 
 
 , 
 
 1^ 
 
 m 
 
 That and his flock the sole aim of 
 
 His deep solicitude, 
 Wliile graces given from above 
 
 Poured round him in a flood 
 Of peerless splendor ? No, with liate 
 
 Unparalleled, they tore 
 The Clergyman from his retreat. 
 
 And to the gibbet bore 
 The pious Missionary who 
 
 Was ignorant of crime : 
 Did not comi)unction check them ? No, 
 
 They foully strangled him ; 
 No jury tried, no judge condemned, 
 
 The innocent ; no spark 
 Of pity in their bosoms beamed 
 
 To chase their passions dark ; — 
 Or if he was so fortunate 
 
 As to escppe their search. 
 Beneath the roof of ruined hut. 
 
 If not beneath the arch 
 Of Heaven, and surrounded by 
 
 i^lmighty records, 'mid 
 The thunder's peal, the wild-bird's cry, 
 
 With cautious videttes hid 
 About each eminence to guard 
 
 'Gainst danger or surprise. 
 And trembling lest the slightest word 
 
 Might bring their enemies, — 
 The crag his altar, — did the Priest, 
 
 His delegate on earth, 
 Present the consecrated Host 
 
 To Him who took his birth 
 From clay to win proud Man from vice — 
 
 Upon the shrubless wild 
 He oftered up that Sacrifice, 
 
 The Father and the Child, 
 
122 
 
 THE spirit's lament ; 
 
 •« Tho Priest and Victim," this is not 
 
 So strange ; from them He came 
 To teach, to suffer was His lot- 
 But mankind is the same 
 Thro' every age, ungrateful now 
 As they were when He lived ; 
 From them He meekly bore the blow 
 
 And scoif, and only grieved 
 For their own faults ; more heinoua far 
 
 Tlian scoff of ancient Jews 
 The crimes of Christian England are,— • 
 
 For they had s< me excuse — 
 They have a chance of safety yet ; 
 
 He prayed that they might be 
 Forgiven, tho' the sin was great ; 
 
 But how can Enghmd ? She 
 Who followed with the naked sword 
 
 And plunged it firm in 
 Tlie sacr. 1 body of the Lord, 
 And sjilt the holy wine — 
 His precious blood— as tho' it swam 
 
 In some foul breast of clay. 
 Then revelled o'er the murdered L^mb 
 
 In horrid ecstacy. 
 How can that land, I say, expect 
 
 Salvation, when each day 
 Beholds her sanctified " elect" 
 
 'Neath domination's sway. 
 Still urelenting, hallooing 
 
 Th' insatiable pacl^ 
 Of human mastiffs, bellowing. 
 Upon the Cliristian's track ; 
 They chased him like the reindeer o'er 
 
 The desolate morass, 
 Unhoused, in want, tlie open moor 
 ilis only sleeping place, — 
 
 N* 
 
 j 
 
OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 llM 
 
 Nfc 
 
 I 
 
 Yet there he would be satisfied 
 
 To dwell, if impursued 
 By lawless miscreants, whose pride 
 
 It would have been to flood 
 The earth with gore, — how sweet a shade 
 
 Within the leafless wood ! 
 Yet as the ludied branches swayed 
 
 In that bleak solitude. 
 And sent their mournful murmurs thru* 
 
 'I'he dismal shelter's space. 
 Or as tlie woodlark chirping flew 
 
 Between each insterstice, 
 He fancied them the outcries of 
 
 Tlie rabid hounds of prey 
 That sought the solitary grove, 
 
 To ascertain if he 
 Were lurkinsr there — for well he kncvi 
 
 Should his recess be found, 
 The Orange dagger would go through 
 
 His body to the sound 
 Of Orange imprecations — his 
 
 Brethren of late 
 Had met with equal cruelties. 
 
 Then might not the same fate 
 Be eciually for him reserved ? — 
 
 Let Pei'il's warnings bode, 
 "^Twould find him ready, not unuorved 
 
 To travel on death's roiid. 
 The anxious pastor persevered 
 
 In his high calling still, 
 Tho' fiends raged and mankind <.'iTe<l, 
 
 No threats could ev«r quell 
 His spirit's ardor — spit« of all 
 
 That slander could invent, 
 The flock obeyed the shepherd's caW^ 
 
 The ties could not be rent, 
 
124 
 
 THE spirit's lament; 
 
 I ■; 
 
 That bound thorn to each other ; if 
 
 Tliey were in trouble he 
 Attend el them and brought relief 
 
 To burdened breasts, while they 
 To his concealment stealthily 
 
 Proceeded to afford 
 The scanty gift of sympathy, 
 
 And listen to the word 
 Of him who ne'er deceived thro* 
 
 Misfortune or thro' weal, 
 Who well deserved it from them tho' 
 
 It were their only meal. 
 What fairer sight can man behold 
 
 Upon this darkened sphere, 
 Than Pity, heedless of the cold 
 
 Unsympathetic sneer, 
 Hurrying to the hopeless son 
 
 Of luxury, to pour 
 The soul-redeeming unction on 
 
 Guilt's latest anguished hour ? 
 Unmindful of the fell disease. 
 
 Of fever's wasting breath, 
 That priest is ready to appease 
 
 The agonies of death, — ■ 
 The clergy of that holy creed 
 
 Are rare examples of 
 Its sublime principles ; they tread 
 
 The paths of peace and love ; 
 The blessed tenets winch they teach 
 
 They're sure to follow too. 
 The doctrine they devoutly preach 
 
 Thcv fa;ithfullv ^lursue- 
 They're pious in their habits, and 
 
 In manners primitive, 
 Their occupation — to command 
 
 The subject fold, and give 
 
 v 
 
 I 
 
 • 
 
OR, THE WRONOS OF IRELAND. 
 
 12.1 
 
 V 
 
 ^l 
 i- 
 
 A caution and advice to those 
 
 That loave the narrow way 
 For avenues wherein the rose 
 
 Invites a lengthened stay ; — 
 Seek thoni, — they're discovered not 
 
 Within tli-e gaudy ring, 
 Whore courtly dissipation's rout 
 
 Calls multitudes to fling 
 Aside the veil of chastity 
 
 That flutters like the moth 
 Which to the taper flies to die 
 
 In seeming beauty's wrath, 
 'Tis but a grave tho' — as at night 
 
 The ' ignis fatuus' glares 
 Upon the lagging fowler's sig'ut, 
 
 The goal, where end his cai'os 
 And journey, he thinks onward lio« 
 
 Whore glimmerings appear, 
 As he pursues the taper flies. 
 
 And Avhen he dooms he's near 
 The object of his wishes, far 
 
 Away 'tis seen again ; 
 Tlie little, dancing, twinkling star, 
 
 Will lure thro' bog and plain 
 The simpleton for many a mile. 
 
 And he will find at last. 
 Much to his anger, that a ' Will 
 
 O' the Wisp' he chased ; 
 For verging on the upland wild 
 
 The fairy meteor's seen 
 No longer — 'twas the marsh's child 
 
 That stole the comet's sheen. 
 ^Tis thus that chastity at first 
 
 Is angled by the rays 
 Wiiich vice emits, 'till sudden burst 
 
 The rain-clouds when the gaae 
 
126 
 
 THE spirit's lament ; 
 
 No longer concentrates upon 
 
 Falsehood's luminary. 
 Its lustre's dimmed, and that which shone 
 
 So brilliant to the eye 
 Before is covered with a shade, 
 
 The shade which guilt supplies — 
 Its former glories quickly fade, 
 
 Its plundered beauty dies ; 
 And many a heart is left to pine, 
 
 Forsaken in its gloom, — 
 No light to cheer its slow decline, 
 
 Until the ray less tomb 
 Its jaws voracious shall disclose 
 
 To seize the contemned dust 
 Of Fashion's fools — as it arose 
 From earth so then it must 
 To earth return ; so must all. 
 
 But o'er the final bed 
 Of many mercy's accents fall, 
 Religion's tears are shed. — 
 Not at the levee's rich array, 
 Where pearls and brocade 
 And diamonds crowd the sparkling way, 
 
 And lords and ladies trade 
 In slander's merchandise, nor at 
 
 The opera's delights 
 To linger out the hours in chat. 
 
 As woman's smile invites 
 Each sable-vested flatterer 
 
 To praise her half hid charms. 
 When mitre-hunters yield to her 
 
 Their bibles and their arms. 
 That priest within the court-house walls 
 
 Admiring legal wit, 
 Is never seen, — no lawyer's scrawls 
 Does he peruse, — no writ 
 
 T 
 
 " 
 
T 
 
 •• 
 
 s 
 
 OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 By lum is issued to distress 
 
 The poor for tithes or rent ; 
 No, if unable to repress 
 
 The sigh, or tears prevent. 
 He will not cause them, — he will have 
 
 No orphan's curse to blast 
 His very bones within the grave 
 
 Where kindliness at last 
 Is sleeping — no, but he'll be found 
 
 Wkere good is to be done. 
 In some lone cabin, whence the sound 
 
 Of evil, or the tone 
 Of penury proceeds, — where'er 
 
 Is irouble he will be, — 
 His solace is to steal its care 
 
 From friendless misery ; 
 Within the airless slimy cell 
 
 The captive he consoles. 
 When desperation sounds the knell 
 
 Of ruin, then he tolls 
 The silver gong of hope, and, lo ! 
 
 The grinning phantoms fly, 
 Religion sheds her lovely glow 
 
 Where was obscurity. 
 He's seen the vessel's deck upon 
 
 That bears the criminal 
 To penal province, to atone 
 By many a day of thrall 
 For his rude rupture of the tiea 
 
 That bind society. 
 He soothes the mourner's miseries 
 
 In true sincerity 
 Of brotherly affection, and 
 
 The prospect is not drear, — 
 He loathes not then the foreign strand 
 He viewed before with fear ; 
 
 127 
 
II 
 
 128 
 
 THE spirit's TxAMENT; 
 
 ii i 
 
 He whispers to the orphan lone, 
 
 Unconsious of caress 
 Of mother, wlien all friends are gone, 
 
 The words of blessedness, 
 He watches o'er his infant caro 
 
 With more than father's zeal, 
 And joys when virtue's blossoms rare 
 
 Their fracri'ant sweets reveal — 
 An omen bright, — and gladly pridei 
 
 Hereafter when his ward 
 Ig sailing over fortune's tide, 
 
 Tlie theme of sage and bard. 
 He decorates tiiis obscure earth 
 
 With piety's fair wreath. 
 That casts its precious perfumes forth 
 
 Lpon the world's breadth. 
 Without Ilim what would be thl: globe ? 
 
 A foul corrupting mass 
 Of crime, endeavouring to robo 
 
 Its brute licentiousness 
 In garments of decorum ; ho 
 
 Is like that curving arch, — 
 The 'Northern Lights,' — whose brilliancy 
 
 Glares like some mammoth torch. 
 And sheds its influence o'er the <lull 
 
 And frozen regions where 
 They coruscate in beautiful 
 
 Tho' icy fields of air : — 
 A milder clime can never know 
 
 The grandeur of the sight 
 When the Aurora round its brow 
 
 Wears diadems of liglit. 
 What tho' ior many months that land 
 
 Should don the snowy pall, 
 Her spangled firmament's a grand 
 
 Rich recompense for all ; 
 
on, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 V2[) 
 
 A residence were sad, indeed, 
 
 Within the Polar spliere, 
 If l^oreaHs did not shod 
 
 His train of glories there. 
 Such an cft'ect upon thi^ isle 
 
 Has Catholieity, 
 Without whose aid the spurious smile, 
 
 By which apostacy 
 Attempts to lure her onward to 
 
 The horid precipice, 
 Wliere pension is prepared to throw 
 
 Her into the abvss. 
 Would win her to a frightful fate ; 
 
 But tho' the shock she feel 
 She will regain her balance, tJiat 
 
 Will save her tho' she reel. 
 The ornament of this, that priest 
 
 Is emblem of a fair 
 And purer realm ; the oppress'd 
 
 Will find protection there,— 
 He preaches ^lis Redeemer through 
 
 The practice of what's good ; 
 His moans are scant, h' ■ wants are few, 
 
 With tenderness enuou'd, 
 He shares these means, as far as they 
 
 Will go, among the poor, 
 And trusts in Him, again the day 
 
 Of scarcity, for more. 
 Behold him se-^ted in his chair ! 
 
 When multitudes approach 
 With humid eye and humble air, 
 
 To seek the blessing ; watch 
 Them at their departure from 
 
 The confessor's recess, 
 The wora's are said — in passion's home 
 
 Is then a tranquil peace ; — 
 
130 THE spirit's LAMENT ; 
 
 Look at him in the pulpit, there 
 
 With chains of eloquence 
 He binds his audience, while the tear 
 
 Of weeping penitence 
 llcplies to his address — tiie aisles 
 
 Respond with surcharged hearts — 
 lie brings a cordiJ for their ills. 
 
 He soothes affliction's smarts, 
 B(?hold him at the death-bed, when 
 
 Tlie dissipated slave 
 Of sensuality has seen 
 
 The margin of the grave, 
 And wishes not to believe there 
 
 A place of punishment 
 Hereafter, but he finds that this, 
 
 The relished aliment 
 On which his mind has fed so long, 
 
 Has lost its charms — no, 
 He c^mnot swallow it ; there throng 
 
 His dire misdeeds to show 
 His station when Mortality 
 
 Consigns him to the guard 
 Of beetle-browed Futurity — 
 
 Dark, stubborn, and hara, — 
 The pleasing dogma, which he oft 
 
 Asserted boastfully 
 To still remorse, while Ruin laughed 
 
 At his temerity. 
 His troubled conscience cannot calm; 
 
 His sophistry cannot 
 Convince him, logic has no balm 
 
 To ease the itehinor snot 
 Where rankles the affection, — each 
 
 Short minute is an age, — 
 The verdict is pronouncf^d — the leeoh 
 
 His torments can't assuage? — 
 
CI, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 'Twero but a foolish task to try 
 
 And puint tlio parting hour, — 
 The mother'^ pangs—the si^iter's sigh— 
 
 The soft tread on tlie lloor, 
 Ai kindred steal to take a last 
 Long look at him they love, 
 While ho surve} s the mirror'd past, 
 
 When just about to move 
 From life, with feelings unexpress'd ; 
 
 Who then allays the dread 
 Of justice with the hope of rest 
 
 To those contrite decreed ? 
 Inatead of racking visions, sweet 
 
 Anticipated bliss,— 
 His heirdom where the happy meet 
 
 Annuls his agonies ; 
 Whene'er the fevered conscience whips, 
 
 The monitor applies 
 The sacred waters to his lips, 
 
 The fluid vivifies 
 The torpid embers in his soul, 
 
 And revelation lights 
 Upon his senses when the shoal 
 
 Of doubt no more affrights , 
 The saint has changed the r.nimal 
 
 To the dependant man, 
 He broke the spirit's downward fall 
 
 And urged its wings to span 
 Bright skies ; the missal of that priest 
 
 Attracts not by its gilt 
 And embossed cover, he at least 
 
 To Power has not knelt, 
 So he nmst bo content to see 
 His missal's cover phi in ; — 
 To court let other churches flee 
 A patronage to gain, 
 
 lol 
 

 '"•*:5^fe 
 
 i;^2 THE spirit's lament ; 
 
 His artful tricks Impurity 
 
 On km will try in vain, 
 Let those, to whom are tacked A. B. 
 
 Or A. M., 'neath the stain 
 Of bribery and corruption lie. 
 
 But Ac will ) ot degrade 
 His church so ignominiously, 
 
 He will not stoop to trade 
 / ^In simony, he has no chance 
 
 To rise to dignity, 
 ' Oft gained by crime's extravagance. 
 
 By vile iih piety ; — 
 He's never seen to clutch the hire 
 
 Whieli prostitution gives, — 
 He will not feed Truth's funeral pyre,— 
 
 In him still virtue lives ; 
 Had he the Idol's cheek butldssed — 
 
 The Woden others wed— . 
 He'd not have been the hunted priest, 
 
 A premium on his head. 
 But when the penal statutes are 
 
 For ever obsolete. 
 When those now living disappear, 
 
 Loud shall reverberate 
 The name of Ireland,— and when she, 
 
 The despot, shall have felt 
 Reverses, and when subtlety 
 
 The fatal blow has dealt 
 To her, and men combine among 
 
 Each other to destroy 
 Her navies, when invaders throng 
 
 In numbers and deploy 
 Upon her fields, then will she rave 
 
 In madden'd agony 
 0- er what is past, when naught can sav« 
 
 From sure calamity 
 
j1 » 
 
 OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 133 
 
 Herself unpitied; she'll descend 
 
 From her preeminence 
 On high ; already has she reign'd 
 
 Too long in arrogance. 
 Instead of giving justice to 
 
 Her rescuers of yore, — 
 Her sole support, if foreign foe 
 
 Should menace Albion's shore — 
 She loads them with the calumny, 
 
 And mocks tnem with the jeer ; 
 Some event of adversity 
 
 Records each passing year. 
 She must restore what Ireland lacks— 
 
 A senate separate ; 
 Compassion pleads and justice backs 
 
 Her claims in the debate. 
 By her own progeny each wrong 
 
 Can be redressed, while they 
 Shall thus escape the glibby tongue 
 
 Of every brainless jay 
 Prepared to claw this country's friend 
 
 Should he attempt reply 
 To it, tho' striving to defend 
 
 His land from obloquy ; 
 Where every representative 
 
 Must typify his land, 
 To whom the people's voices give 
 
 The means with the command 
 To guard the whole community 
 
 'Gainst, danger from abroad 
 And from internal treachery, 
 
 Da^k Dissolution's food ; 
 Not for his base subserviency 
 
 To any satrap's stamp. 
 Or nod of government, must he 
 
 Reside in Ireland's camp 
 
l:H- 
 
 THE spirit's lament; 
 
 A3 ouo of her protectors ; no, 
 
 He must obtain his seat 
 I}y freuiueii's suliVages ; a show 
 'of unoound hands must greet 
 His entrance to the senate-house-; 
 
 The patriot's shout alone, 
 Which from the heart spontaneous Hows, 
 
 Must hail the chosen one, 
 Who phiced in the triumphal chair. 
 
 Decked out by Honesty, 
 Proceeds to College Green to swear 
 
 The oath of fealty 
 To Ireland ; let her grant but thb* 
 
 And she may then defy 
 All continental menaces, 
 
 However boastingly 
 They may be uttered, trusting in 
 
 Th' mn-ivalled fearlessness 
 Of Irish breasts, should battle's din 
 
 Their natures' wild excess 
 Of daring summon ;— Mdien before, 
 
 A dense and threat'ning host 
 Of fierce assailants hovered o'er 
 
 The undefended coast, 
 When England shirked her duty, who 
 
 Were they that then displayed 
 A steady front, and unasked, flew 
 
 To give then ready aid? 
 When almost over every part 
 
 The flag of France was seen ; 
 When foemen reached Hibernia's heart, 
 
 Whose was the banner green 
 That fluttered refutation on 
 
 Its slanderers, and spread 
 Confusion thro' the van overthrown 
 Which France's eagles led ? 
 
 m 
 I 
 
 \ 
 
 V 
 
 y 
 
OR, THE WRONGS OY IRELAND. 
 
 m 
 
 \ 
 
 K 
 
 y 
 
 \ 
 
 It was the Irish pennant, held 
 
 By Ireland's progeny,— 
 It waved o'er many a foi'eign field 
 
 The badge of bravery, 
 But then it shaded its own soil 
 
 From profligacy's glare, 
 And hearts that 'mid the contest's broil 
 
 Would cease to \ibrate ere 
 They'd fly in danger's crisis, tho' 
 
 'Twere better they had been 
 The Gaul's auxiliaries, — the foe 
 
 To the false sovereign 
 For whom they dared the battle's fate— 
 
 They trusted to her sense 
 <3f equity, to reinstate 
 Id their inheritance 
 The men who bled for her ; 'tis true 
 
 Their lost prerogative 
 At length was yielded, but 'twas thro' 
 
 A feeling not of love. 
 But dread ; 'twas at the i>eriod when 
 
 America, being urged 
 To desperation by the chain 
 Wliich profligacy forged, 
 Throw oif the tyrant's heavy yoke, 
 
 And cheerfully unfurled 
 The cherished stars and stripes, when hnyka. 
 
 The plaudits of a world 
 On Freedom's pupil ; it was then 
 
 liibernia resolved 
 To advocate the right of men 
 
 Wliich Rapine had dissolved 
 In seas of blood, and with the laws 
 
 Which she herself would frame 
 Her children bind: the holy cause 
 Evoked a brilliant flame 
 
136 
 
 THE spirit's lament ; 
 
 In each department ; every 
 
 Valley sent its peal 
 Of preparation ; th' energy 
 
 Long dead began to steal 
 Or rather run throughout their souls, — 
 
 That dreamy stupor died 
 AVhieh in its coils the mind enfolds, — 
 
 The summons was replied 
 To with a voice of thunder ; that 
 
 Despair which paralysed 
 Their efforts — that affection caught 
 
 When they were sacriticed 
 To a usurped supremacy, 
 
 When their proud spirits lay 
 Crushed beneath contumacy, 
 
 The vile despoiler's prey. 
 Which pressed on them as tho' it were 
 
 Some horrid incubus, — 
 Was thro n off ; there was naught to mar 
 
 Their chances of success ; 
 For England, smarting 'neath defeat 
 
 Deserved, chastised by them 
 She long had trampled 'neath her feet, 
 
 Could not oppose the stream 
 Of agitation ; — like a poor 
 
 And pitiful poltroon. 
 As abject in discomfiture. 
 
 As haughty in her noon 
 Of pride when viewing her parade 
 
 Of scarlet impotent;!, 
 Before a trial of strength was made 
 
 'Tween the belligerents. 
 Unwillingly she yielded to 
 
 The tide of circumstance, 
 And Erin got in eighty-two 
 
 Her loved inheritance. 
 
 \ 
 
 -*^ v 
 
 K 
 
OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 1;^ 
 
 \ 
 
 „ 
 
 
 'Twas won, — 'twas squandered, — Vigilance 
 
 Was mesmerised by Art, — 
 He slumbered when Intolerance 
 
 Again resolved to part 
 The guardians of the rich bequest 
 
 By moans of discord's fruit 
 Thrown in among them to arrest 
 
 Their observation, — but 
 'T would not succeed, if England's gold— 
 
 I should have said their own — ^ 
 With vice-like grasp had not laid liold 
 
 Of its protectors, soon 
 The ' amor patria3,' which before 
 
 Had every terror l raved 
 And thrown its iron corslet o'er 
 
 The warriors who saved 
 The land from usurpjation, flew 
 
 Before the amulet 
 Which cunning had exposed to view 
 To lure them to his net, — 
 
 And strong the wizard's meshes ; they 
 
 Had only ju,<^t possessed 
 The treasure, when Brutalitv 
 
 Considered how to wrest 
 It from them ; to conciliate 
 
 The Catholics, he thought, 
 Was his best policy,— the great 
 
 Majority were bouglit 
 Over by concessions, lest 
 
 Contagion might advance 
 The symptoms of the rabid pest 
 
 That devastated France. 
 The year their claim was recognised ** 
 
 The ministers refused 
 The boon, ere yet they were apprised 
 That Atheism loosed 
 
138 
 
 THE spirit's lament ; 
 
 I! 
 
 His dogs carnivorous to prowl 
 
 For offal thro' each state, 
 But when they heard the mastiffs howl 
 
 Outf?ide the very gate, 
 In search of prey they, deemed it besi 
 
 That creeds should be near par ; 
 Their dreaded wardens were released 
 
 From grievances, — the bar 
 Was opened to them, to the bench 
 
 They still could not obtain 
 Access, tho' hate sought to retrench 
 
 The privilege, — in vain 
 Were all his arts, — for safety said, 
 
 The Jacobin will thrive 
 And triumph, should you not concode 
 
 Of their prerogative 
 A trifling portion, — they could be 
 
 Solicitors, or might 
 Obtain a British colonelcy, — 
 
 But better still, the right ** 
 Of the elective franchise then 
 
 Was granted ; — they could vote 
 For men to represent them when 
 
 Detraction would misquote. 
 The revolutionary war 
 
 Was just commencing, and 
 Its flame was spreading near and far 
 
 When England stretched the hand 
 Of kindness : — ^"twas accepted ; they, 
 
 Who would have joined the ranka 
 Of insurrection readily, 
 
 Refused to aid the Franks, 
 As partisans, who thus should fall : — 
 
 The merchant class displayed 
 Their earnest gratitude, — the call, 
 
 Which innovation made, 
 
 ^ % 
 
 \ 
 
OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELANT). ' 
 
 189 
 
 ^ V ^ 
 
 s. 
 
 Was unattended to by those — 
 
 By gentleness alone 
 Was Ireland saved ; if they arose 
 
 When they were called upon, 
 Tho' brightest gem in England's crown *• 
 
 Had been transferred at last, 
 And she might blame, had that been gone, 
 
 The harshness of the past. 
 These slight instalments — concord's fruit 
 
 Incited them them to vie 
 In commerce with their step-dame, — but 
 
 She liked not rivalry ; 
 The hum of trade must now be hushed, 
 
 A Union must be made 
 Immediately, they must be crushed. 
 
 Else their increasing trade 
 And manufacture soon would rais« 
 
 Them up to such a pitch 
 Of consequence as would amaze 
 
 The world ; to enrich 
 Competitors was not her plan ; — 
 
 Their growing influence 
 She must destroy, while yet she can 
 
 With ease ; the best pretence ^ 
 She could devise to bring about 
 
 The scheme of robbery 
 Was, could she do it, to promote 
 
 A scene of anarchy; 
 Rebellion was fomented by 
 
 The minister to snatch 
 Their independence from them, — they 
 
 Were temped to attach 
 Themselves to tumult ; but the rank 
 
 And wealth of Ireland kept 
 Aloof, they'd not plunge in the tank 
 
 In which the adder slept. 
 
11 
 
 140 
 
 THE spirit's lament; 
 
 ! I 
 
 ,■ I 
 
 Wlien pinioned, they have been the trained 
 
 Weak dupes of policy, 
 But noy«r that they had lately gained 
 
 Some small indemnity, 
 They listened coldly to the tonguo 
 
 That sought to rouse their pride, 
 By deprecating Ireland's wrong — 
 
 They sternly denied 
 Assistance; still the work went on, — 
 
 Tho,' relatively, 
 A miserably few had drawn 
 
 The sword : — tenaciously 
 This few contested inch by inch 
 
 The well defended land, — 
 " May vengeance fall on him who'll flinch. 
 
 From bayonet or from brand," 
 Was heard to issue from their lines 
 
 Amid the close melee. 
 While from the growling carbines 
 
 Death poured unsparingly ; 
 But Guile at last succeeded in 
 
 His object, — they dispersed ; — "^ 
 
 Disunion wrought his lord's design, 
 
 The country was coerced 
 Into a so-called union, — but 
 
 The implement Command 
 Resorted to had nearly cut 
 
 His own unskilful hand. 
 Had Education only mixed 
 
 With disafFection's force. 
 To Ireland had not been affixed 
 
 The Union's blighting curse. 
 Tlie strife, tho' short, was deadly close, 
 
 Tho' wanting shot and shell ; 
 The band, that ventured to oppose 
 
 The grasping infidel, 
 
 N 
 
OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 Ul 
 
 V 
 
 Gave reason to the conqueror 
 
 To recollect the day 
 He, aided by his minions, tore 
 
 Their dearest rights away. 
 The safety of a government 
 
 Is in a people's love ; 
 Should this, its surest tie, be rent 
 
 No other can be rove 
 Of equal strength ; — mischance will tide 
 
 To England's sceptre yet, 
 And they, on whom she oft relied 
 
 For succor, wont forget 
 Fer vandal violence ; they'll bid 
 
 Her look upon their towns 
 'Neath ruin's cobwebbed curtains hid. 
 
 Where Dullness only frowns. 
 Or whence the wail of hunger's heard ; — 
 
 The harbors, once so thick 
 With tapering masts that proudly reared 
 
 Their tops as if to seek 
 An intercourse with stars, are now 
 
 Bu^ rf'ytted with the smacks 
 Of bumble fishermen ; — the plough 
 
 Feeds still the bursting sacks, 
 
 For millionaires the lambkins bleat, — 
 
 For them each bending tree ; 
 The rustic reaps the drowsy wheat 
 
 To gorge the absentee 
 With luxuries ; tho' he may break 
 
 His very bones the while. 
 The corn to his hollow cheek 
 
 Will never bring a smile. 
 Six millions yearly must be spent 
 
 To pander to the pride 
 Of native aliens ; the rent 
 Is borne o'er the tide 
 
 .^S.-?*iJ*3s*s;' 
 
 'x/u'temm 
 
142 
 
 tHE spirit's lament ; 
 
 ) 
 
 ! I 
 
 i 
 
 To distant profligacy, yet 
 
 Tlio liarrassed peasantry, 
 Who thus consent to immolate 
 
 Themselves to beggary, 
 live on upon the food of beasts, — 
 
 The rampant landlord's scorn, 
 Submitting to his rude behests, — 
 
 No people would have borne 
 So tamely such anomaly 
 
 So long, — it cannot last ; 
 Could they but act in unity 
 
 They'd rectify the past. 
 And what entailed their deep disgrace ? 
 
 The Union, first proposed 
 Thro' hatred of the Irish race ; 
 
 Tho' energy opposed 
 Its progress in its every stage. 
 
 By artifice 'twas passed, 
 And murder, bribery and rage 
 
 Combined with each to blast 
 The arguments of justice. Still 
 
 Accomplished in the snares 
 Of simultaion's paltry guile. 
 
 In spite of all the cares 
 Which England caused them, she pretends 
 
 She's actuated by 
 Affection only felt by friends, — 
 
 The closest amity. 
 She says, should ever link them both ; ■ 
 
 With comic imj)udence. 
 When she has eructated wrath, 
 
 And death and pestilence 
 Upon each province, of her own 
 
 Seraphic clemency 
 She boasts, tho' penury alone 
 
 Her generosity 
 
 \ 
 
 s 
 
 \ 
 
OR, THE V^RONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 14 i 
 
 \ 
 
 s. 
 
 Proclaims ; disinterestedness 
 
 She arrogates, but when 
 Tlie policy of gentleness 
 
 Did she pursue ? In vain 
 I'll seek for an example of 
 
 Her loinency upon 
 Hibernians historic leaf; 
 
 There's not a single one : 
 Her actions towards that country are 
 
 Inscribed in characters 
 Deep sunk and plain, — the gifts which war 
 
 Confers were always hers, — 
 Britannia's deeds towards her are writ 
 
 In ink that cannot fade ; 
 That ink did Ireland's veins emit, 
 
 The lancet was the blade, 
 'Vhich, having pierced her children, glowed 
 
 Red in the murderer's hand, — 
 The tide came cheerfully, it flowed 
 
 To serve their native land ; 
 And gladly did they yield the stream 
 
 Of life on Freedom's shrine ; 
 Electric roso ilie dying scream 
 
 That found a response in 
 Unpurchased hearts ; by gold unswayed 
 
 A model bright were they 
 Of patriotism, undismayed 
 
 By adverse destiny ; 
 Incited by their country's fate 
 
 They willing martyrs died 
 The freeman's code to propagate, 
 
 Unheeding aught beside ; 
 They brought their talent to the task, 
 
 For better or for worse. 
 In Erin's welfare each vvould bask, 
 
 Or with her fall ; — the curs© 
 
Mi 
 
 THE spirit's lament ; 
 
 Of earth and Heaven they invoked 
 
 Upon themselves, should they 
 Resign the battle rage provoked 
 
 Unwarrantably : 
 Detesting despotism and 
 
 Disdaining to be slaves 
 Or bow before the wizard wand 
 
 Imperialism waves, 
 They rather chose to die, each one 
 
 Respected and admired , 
 Than parasitical live on, 
 
 And look upon a hired 
 And prejudiced monopoly 
 
 Subverting every true 
 Principle of equity 
 
 To please a paltry few. 
 If they were rpsh for rashness they 
 
 Paid dearly with their lives, — 
 But tho* unjust the penalty. 
 
 Their memory survives 
 Their dust ; and if their struggles but 
 
 Caused brethren to feel 
 The pressure of the centaur's foot, — 
 
 If luckless their appeal 
 To arms — and, if they entailed 
 
 Disaster when they sought 
 To bless a land that long had quailed 
 
 In bondage, yet they ought 
 No to be blamed, — no fault was theirs,— 
 
 Disunion caused their fall. — 
 A true affection yet reveres 
 
 The victims one and all. 
 Had their endeavours but been crowned 
 
 With fortune, I would see 
 The laurel round their temples bound 
 
 To mark their bravery ; 
 
 
OR, THE WRONGS OP IRELAND. 
 
 14i 
 
 flow gorgeously their characters 
 
 Had been emblazoned on 
 The scroll of fume, — for no one em 
 
 That lolls in conquest's sun ; 
 Their hastv act would bo aloie 
 
 The issue of deep thought 
 And penetration ; had they won, 
 
 Tradition Avould have brought 
 Thei r names down to posterity, 
 
 As demi-gods, while now, 
 Thoy ^et but the enthusiast's sigh, 
 
 lic.i-ed audibly tho* low. 
 Had ninety-eight's eventful year 
 
 C" 'adependence told, 
 Rebellion on the listening ear 
 
 Would not grate harshly ; gold 
 Would lend its ductile quality, 
 
 A.nd give its yellow hue. 
 To gild the syllable : that dye 
 
 Would offer to the view 
 Majestic revolution. Such 
 
 Have been the world's ways : 
 If men but prosper, they may clutch 
 
 And wear distinction's bays. 
 They fell, but not un mourned ; let 
 
 The turf rest lightly o'er 
 Their watered ashes, while the great 
 
 And geneious deplore 
 Their '^nd ; let gifts, peculiar to 
 Each season, grace their beds ; 
 For them the tears of Ireland flow, — 
 
 A weeping nation sheds 
 Her tribute to their memory ; 
 
 No epitaph records 
 Their fate, — more honored as they lie 
 Than panegyricktd lords, — 
 
146 
 
 
 THE spirit's lament; 
 
 But from the gory pool, then formed 
 
 By the purple streams 
 That ran from veins of trunks deformed. 
 
 Shall emanate the beams 
 Of liberty, to streak those skies : 
 
 Ay, iiom that rubric lake 
 Shall exhalations yet arise, 
 And crystallizing make, 
 In Ireland's spotless horizon, 
 
 A beauteous rainbow, "which 
 Her children shall gaze upon 
 
 Rejoiced, and construe each 
 Ever-varying tint into 
 
 The changing smiles and tears 
 Of those, who readied to glory tlW 
 
 Oppression's guilty fears. 
 And th* k their undecnying souls 
 
 Are -vayed by sigh or smile, 
 As Destiny his chariot rolls, 
 Alternate, o'er the isle ; ^ 
 And they will hail it as a sign 
 
 Of sure deliverance, 
 And struggle, thus, more boldly in 
 
 Their nationhood's defence ;— 
 The murdered martyrs in their grave 
 
 Will seek fo^ Erin's right, 
 Their voices cheer the living brave 
 
 In freedom-s holy lighi.— 
 I look upon my lovely land, 
 
 And, as I look, the shade 
 Of melanclioly chills me, and 
 
 Her once fair prospects fade 
 Before my mental vision, tho' 
 
 A kindred spirit vowed. 
 That fate had wille.l a champion to 
 
 The native soil of Flood, 
 
 \ 
 
OR, THB WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 14' 
 
 Of Curran, Grattan, Plunkett ; but 
 
 'Tis foolish thus to dwell 
 Upon those wondrous men, — the thought 
 
 Is almost maddenmg— well 
 They did their duty. Oh, how true 
 
 Have been their prophecies ! 
 Until the Union, Ireland knew 
 
 Not what was wretchedness ; 
 Her former vigor sleeps supine 
 
 On peril's precipice — 
 Those who w^ere happy most repine 
 
 When sunk in the abyss 
 Of destitution — thus with her, 
 
 She unremittingly 
 Complains, that puny man should slur 
 
 T»:e wish of Destiny ; 
 For 'twas intended she should be 
 
 The flowery rotreat 
 Of art and science, that the sea, 
 
 Which guards her, to her feet 
 Should bring the offerings of all 
 
 The kingdoms of the earth ; 
 'Twas thus when bards in • Tara's Hall' 
 
 To martial strains gave birth ; 
 It will be so again, too. Why, 
 
 Her place upon this globe, 
 Her permanent fertdity, 
 
 The gentle heats that robe 
 Her fields in verdure, aU combine 
 
 To mark her as a home. 
 Decreed by institutes divine, 
 
 For Freedom's brazen dome. 
 From England separated by 
 
 A broad tempestuous sea ; 
 J^y nature formed specially 
 
 For intercourse with tho 
 
148 
 
 THE spirit's lament; 
 
 Empires of the universe ; 
 
 Why should another State, 
 Presuming on its strength, coerce 
 
 Her right to legislate ? 
 My people are dissimilar 
 
 In customs, and much more 
 Than equal England at the bar, 
 
 In battle, or in lore 
 Of abstruse science ; blessed, in sooth, 
 
 With energy untamed 
 Amid disaster, loving truth, 
 Tho' vilified, defamed — 
 For honor is their life-pulse, — naught 
 
 Can make them swerve from this, 
 The idol of their thoughts, unbought 
 
 Were every earthly bliss 
 At its expense, — and not the last, 
 
 A climate, for its tone 
 Of temperature, unsurpassed 
 
 In all or any zone ; 
 The parching heat, the intense cold, 
 
 The torrent, tho deep snows, 
 The hurricane, which, uncontroll'd.. 
 
 Spreads ruin where it goes. 
 Are here unknown ; altlio' her great 
 
 Exposure to the spray 
 Of the Atlantic must create 
 
 Undue humidity 
 Of atmosphere, it adds to the 
 
 Fecundity of soil, 
 And shrouds in beauty every lea, 
 
 Tho' man should never toil. 
 Her geographic station is 
 
 As favorable to 
 Pursuits of commerce, as her sky's 
 Propitious to the plough ; 
 
 / 
 
 / 
 
 I 
 
OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 uy 
 
 / 
 
 / 
 
 X 
 
 i 
 ft 
 
 Placed on the extremity 
 
 Of Europe, she would be 
 Enabled at all tim^s thereby 
 To harass those whom she 
 Disliked ; thus, could she intercept 
 
 The trade of the n^w world 
 From other nations, while she kept 
 
 Of the blue waves that curled 
 Around her in sublimity, 
 
 Like mother clasping child, 
 The undisputed sovereignty, 
 
 Their crested tops her shield ; 
 The merchant ships of Liverpool, 
 
 Of Britain's every port, 
 With flowing sails distended full. 
 Her beetling cliffs must court. 
 Before they can arrive at their 
 
 Own destination ; and 
 Those splendid harbors seem to share 
 
 The bounties of the land ; 
 Tliey look as tho' they would entreat 
 
 The natives to receive. 
 Themselves, from Ind the precious freight, 
 
 And emulous retrieve 
 Her ancient grandeur, greater than 
 
 It ever was before, — 
 The entrepot of earth again, 
 
 As in the days of yore. 
 Her natural advantages 
 Are inexhaustible, — 
 Tho' great the spoiler's ravages 
 
 Still indestructible 
 Were her resources,— richest mines, 
 
 Abound, untouched, inert — 
 Profusely there the pure gold shines ; 
 If Industry exert 
 
THE spirit's lament ; 
 
 Its powers, 'tis discovered in 
 
 The ground, in many a stream, 
 The sands of splashing rills, that twine 
 
 In drowsy music, gleam 
 With indications of the ore; 
 
 Her hills arc arable, 
 Ay, to their summits, where a store 
 
 Of herbage, suitable 
 To sheep, grows their perennially . 
 
 The vallevs far exceed 
 Britannia's in viridity ; 
 
 The rivulets, that speed 
 Along declivities, would aid 
 
 The irrigators art ; 
 Thus could she easily be made 
 
 The agricultor's mart. 
 Her mosses and her bogs, if bleak, 
 
 Unlike the other's fen. 
 Send no effluvia to check 
 
 The health or life of men, 
 And give a plentiful supply 
 
 Of heating fuel to 
 Their own surrounding peasantry, 
 
 To cheer in winter's snow, 
 Or should the owners only drjiin. 
 
 They'd speedily become 
 The most prolific pastures ; vain 
 
 Such wishes for my homo I 
 Her poi)ulation is a brave 
 
 And hardy race, debarr'd 
 From leisure's vices, while they have. 
 
 Upon the teeming sward, 
 A vast redundancy of all 
 
 Life's necessaries ; — 
 How strange that they should boar the thrall 
 Of Fraud's emissaries. 
 
OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 151 
 
 s 
 
 V 
 
 ■^x 
 
 Behold that fallen city!* how 
 
 Grand, magnificent, 
 She once appeared ! What is she now ? 
 
 Want's mouldering tenement. 
 Alas, how altered since ! Before 
 
 The union, competence 
 Spread gladness there ; no strolling poor, 
 
 Or blear-eyed indigence. 
 With husky voice and lagging gait, 
 
 Assailed the citizen ; 
 Herself, the emblem of the state, 
 
 Looked Mr as when the queen 
 Of night hangs out her polished lamp 
 
 That gently sheds its beam. 
 And silvers o'er the marshy swamp 
 
 And burnishes the stream, 
 To her Wealth's subjects paid their court, 
 
 There Glory held his tilt. 
 And Commerce in her wooded port 
 
 Her vase of plenty spilt. 
 No kingdom prospered more while she 
 
 Her own legislature 
 Possessed, ere yet Ascendancy, 
 
 In subtle arts secure. 
 Stole her P 'ladium; wealth 3\yept tliro' 
 
 Each distixct with its tide 
 Of gold — the breeze of learning blew 
 
 Its fragrance far and wide — 
 Its blessings manufacture showered 
 
 On the community, — 
 The arts were fostered — Freedom tow< red 
 
 In grand sublimity — 
 A firm faith and conndeuco 
 
 Cemented social ties. 
 She brooked not then the insolence 
 
 Of her adversaries ; — 
 
 Uublln* 
 
152 
 
 THE spirit's lament; 
 
 lit 
 
 Disunion's chilling blight came down, 
 
 And nipped each gentle bud, 
 The promised blossoms have not blown, 
 
 They're scattered by the rude 
 Storms of discord ; is it not 
 
 Distracting, thus to view 
 The offspring of the men who fought 
 
 And beat the Roman too, 
 Who trampled on the standard of 
 
 That world grasping foe. 
 And from his eagled banners wove 
 
 A trophied prize to show. 
 That vainly would his stalwart arm 
 
 Oppose Hibernians might. 
 When valour's rapid currents warm 
 
 Her children in the fight. 
 Reduced to the degraded state 
 
 Of despicable slaves. 
 The bondsmen of the reprobate, 
 
 The willing tools of knaves ? 
 How harrowing it is, to see 
 
 The country, once the seat 
 Of learning and of sanctity, 
 
 Polluted by the feet 
 Of execrable aliens. 
 
 Unconscious of the glow 
 Of pity or b-jnevolence. 
 
 The messengers of wo. 
 Exhibiting their prowess by 
 
 Insulting the distressed, 
 Displaying their humanity 
 
 By mocking the oppressed I 
 How grievous is it to behold 
 
 Her own degenerate sons 
 Become the dupes of British gold, 
 And Adulation's clowns, 
 
 s 
 
 . 
 
OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 153 
 
 I 
 
 s 
 
 hirelings to 
 
 And, with a callous treachery, 
 
 Comrairigling with the bands, 
 Whicli unafFrighted Perjury 
 
 Both follows and commands. 
 And eructating malice, and 
 
 Ejecting calumny 
 Upon the parent's soothing hand 
 
 That nursed their infancy ! 
 Has she not enemies enow, 
 
 Till her own progeny 
 Present their services and bow 
 
 To yelping Bigotry, 
 And be the swor- 
 
 Contemned Venality, 
 The scorned lacqueys of a crew 
 
 Adoring Miscreancy ? 
 To them she may attribute her 
 
 Continued sutferings, — 
 With shrilly, ravening, croak, they whir 
 
 Around on sable wings, 
 To prey upon her torn breast, 
 
 Their famished maws to fill : 
 Each human vulture strives to feast 
 
 On Ireland's every ill ; 
 But for their base desertion, she 
 
 Would now be sovereign 
 Of the Atlantic's boundless sea, 
 
 Its undisputed queen ; 
 Renown would brace her with her zone, 
 
 Her ever-honored name, 
 The brightest there, would blaze upon 
 
 The chronicles of Fame, 
 Had they but given to her cause 
 
 Their prostituted aid, 
 She would have been what Carthage wiis- 
 
 She is, a land betrayed. — 
 
r 
 
 
 154 THE spirit's lament ; 
 
 She would have been the tenement 
 
 Of sceptred liberty, 
 But man perverted God's intent, — 
 
 She's trod by Tyranny. 
 The union quenched the brilliant torch 
 
 Of Ireland's literature, — 
 The fires lit in Parnassus' porch 
 
 Lost then their lustre pure. 
 Her strengtli and spirit noAV are sunk, 
 
 A chaos clouds her mind. 
 She looks as tho' with stupor drunk, 
 
 So nerveless, so resigned. 
 She seems as tho' she never were 
 
 The birth-place of the muse. 
 As if War's deity to her 
 
 His homage dare refuse ; 
 No intellect in Europe is 
 
 So gorgeous in the glow 
 Of light it borrows from Wit's skies. 
 
 As Ireland's is, and no 
 Mind that can sublimely rise 
 
 To airy heights with her. 
 Or boast such signal victories 
 
 In Science's career ; 
 Her scholars are unnumbered, — yet 
 
 She has no theatre 
 For talent to display its great 
 
 And mighty calibre, — 
 Nor yet can she an audience claim 
 
 For its encouragement : 
 
 She's Erin only in the name, — 
 
 Pride's crumbled monument. 
 
 To go back to the palmy times 
 
 Of Charlemont and Flood — 
 
 How sweet that name on mem'ry chimes- 
 
 Is but to point to broad 
 
 \ 
 
 \ 
 
 /■ 
 
 N 
 
OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND, 
 
 155 
 
 \ 
 
 \ 
 
 y 
 
 S 
 
 And sinning besxjons of her own 
 
 Reflected radiance, — those 
 Meteors whose lustre shono 
 
 In tempest or repose ; 
 They must dispel suspicion, and 
 
 Cast such refulgence o'er 
 Th' enquirer's path, that he will stand, 
 
 In mute suspense, before 
 Those living lights of eloquence,— 
 
 Ay, living still, tho' dead,— 
 Strange contradiction !— and evince 
 
 No doubt, nor seek to tread 
 The grounds of fable, to create 
 
 A sceptic sneer on each 
 Reviler's face, to dissipate 
 Her claims upon a niche 
 In Glory's sculptured temple,— on 
 
 Even her splendor's eve. 
 The sunset of her high renown, 
 
 No cloud hangs to deceive 
 The gazer's vision,— there no mist 
 
 Of iiibrication 's seen, 
 Its beauties every eye arrest, 
 
 Unrivalled is its sheen, — 
 But now no patronage protects 
 
 The flowers of the mind, 
 No horticulturist collects 
 
 The blossoms there enshrined, 
 Before their sunny richness wane,— 
 
 No hand extends its care 
 To the outbuddings of the brain, — 
 
 Their scents are shed on air. 
 The darkness of the spirit's night, 
 
 Which one cursed -et creates, 
 Prevents ambitions soaring flight, 
 And thus degenerates 
 
156 
 
 THE SPIRIT S LAMENT ; 
 
 Tliat noble passion here, or else 
 
 That statute's dire effect 
 Leads to its exile, and compels 
 
 Ambition to select 
 Some foreign altar, where it may- 
 Its vernal offerings 
 Deposit, 'till some future day 
 
 A better prospect brings. 
 That fatal act, which Castlereagh 
 
 And Pitt, and Clare, and all 
 The venal villains of that day, 
 
 Projected to enthral 
 This isle, as tho' with pliant steel, 
 
 Has scared prosperity, — 
 There's no resource, unless Repeal, 
 
 To chase calamity ; 
 But tho' she's seeking it of late, 
 
 *Tis futile to surmise 
 The issue I desire, when fate 
 
 Decrees that she must rise 
 From degradation by an arm 
 
 Begot and nurtured while 
 The battle raged, amid the storm 
 
 Of strife that checked the smile ; 
 Her leader boasts not warlike feat, 
 
 Nor talks of warlike plan. 
 He seeks, but not by force or threat. 
 
 To save her from her bane ; 
 By moral force alone, he hopes. 
 
 To rescue her from gloom, 
 A nation's blessing on him drops ; 
 
 H e shouts, — a people come, 
 To swear, upon each sacred shrine, 
 
 Irrevocable vows 
 To tear her from the alien, 
 
 The struggle to espouse, 
 
 f' 
 
OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 Till every trace of helotry 
 
 Have disappeared, and she 
 Obtain her old celebrity, 
 
 A haven of the free. 
 The archives of futurity 
 
 Remain still unexplored ; 
 Oh, could I for a moment see 
 
 The small but wizard word 
 Writ on the page of destiny. 
 
 Which tells when he will come, 
 The herald of her liberty, 
 
 To snatch her from the tomb !" 
 
 She ceased. But for some time beside hei^ there were, 
 
 With looks full of gentleness, eyes full of tears, 
 Attentive, some pitying spirits of air, 
 
 Whose bowers were built in the heavenly spheres. 
 One radiant with glory approached her and touched 
 
 The Guardian of Erin ; a start of surprise 
 Betrayed her conftision. The star-dweller broached 
 
 The subject that flooded the sorrower's eyes : 
 *' Let gladness the accents of sympathy hush. 
 
 The knowledge you seek you shall learn from me ; 
 Let the sunbeam of hope from those drooping lids brush 
 
 The crystalline drops wliich it pains me to see. 
 You spoke but just now of a leader who strives 
 
 To raise your green isle 'mong the nations again ; 
 Behold in him one whom the Deity gives 
 To drag her from ruin eternal, to win 
 Back from the stranger the booty he plundered. 
 
 To cheer her to conquest, to fasten the ties 
 Of holy affection, which discord has sundered. 
 
 To urge her to fame, and to bring back the prize 
 Which the Sassenach stole, when fomented rebellion. 
 
 The tool of the despot, let loose on the land 
 The hydras of horror,--when Tyranny's minion 
 Was red with the fluid that ran from the brand,-- 
 
 167 
 
IjS 
 
 THE SPIHIT 3 LAMENT ; 
 
 When Bribery's agents, unblushing, paraded 
 
 Each street and each alley, each booth and each stall. 
 They triumphed : the flow'rs of nobility faded 
 That blossomed in Ireland's legislative liall. 
 'Twere bootless to tell of your country's disasters, 
 
 Too well do you know all the wrongs she endured, 
 Too well do you know how her fanatic masters 
 In torrents the blood of her children poured ; 
 Too well do you know how they ravished her daughters, 
 
 And strangled the mother and murdered the child. 
 Till the shell-covered beds of her smooth flowing waters 
 
 With rotting mortality's relics were filled. 
 Such actions the Indians, in isles Carribbean, 
 
 Would tremble to think on, unversed tho' they be 
 In the ethical code which the Anglican Christian 
 
 Pursues, tho' it is not the doctrine which He 
 Professed, while engaged in His mission of love, — 
 
 Such are not the precepts His followers teach : 
 His sanctified Vicar on earth never strove 
 
 To immolate millions together ; to preach 
 Of peace, tho' the falchion was smoking the while, — 
 
 Of virtue, while fire was consuming the cot, — 
 Of meekness, wliile urging his ruffians to kill 
 
 The man who dissented in word or in thought ; 
 You know how the lather's estates were held out 
 
 As a bribe to encourage the recreant son ; 
 You know how uncovered Apostacy sought 
 
 The goods of the believer, and frequently won 
 His domains from some high-minded chief who disdained 
 
 To kneel at a shrine that was formed by Lust, 
 To pray 'neath the roof of a fane that was stained 
 
 With the tide that succeeded the infidel's thrust ; 
 You have heard how high Heaven resolved to defeat 
 
 The wiles of the bigOv, the fanatic^s rage. 
 The heretics wrath, and the hypocrite's hate, 
 To cancel each blot on her history's page 
 
 / 
 
OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 lo9 
 
 With the pen of success dipped in harmony's ink, 
 
 To trace there instead but the words of renown, 
 To raise her at once from nonentity's brink 
 
 'Mong nations exalted the pinnacled one. 
 Her children anxiously watched for the champion, — 
 
 Each year passed away ; and tho' leaders appeared, 
 Their futile c^ideavours evinced that the true one 
 
 Was born not yet, the beloved, the rev ?d. 
 Her Geraldines sank, her O'Neils were defeated. 
 
 Her Butlers were sold, her O'Dc ': betrayed, 
 Her O'Dohertys teeming estates were escheated, 
 
 Her patriots exiled, her princes, afraid 
 To offer resistance, consented to listen 
 
 To compacts the framers intended to break. 
 When the light of their glaives in the sunbeam should glisten, 
 
 When honor and valor forbade them to seek • 
 
 The sinful alliance, while hearts were unbending. 
 
 While arms were abio to grapple a sword. 
 While lived there a chance of success by defending 
 
 The ' Gem of the West' from a tyrant abhorr'd. 
 A curse on the wretch who seeks safety by suing 
 
 Protection from Albion's liveried slave, — 
 Mny lightenings assail Inm who prospers by wooing 
 
 Injustice, may Infamy howl o'er his grave. — 
 She needs not a foreign protection ; each spii-it, 
 
 That pants on her surface, is ready to breathe 
 Its last in her service ; her children merit, 
 
 Instead of their fetters, the warrior's wreath. 
 They brooked them supinely, when ages passed over, 
 
 Each darkened by slavery's pestilent cloud, 
 A ray at times shot from its nebulous cover 
 
 Again to be lost in the vapory shroud ; 
 The vista of hope was no longer before them. 
 
 Their energy drooped and the past was a dream ; 
 The sleep of forgetfulness seemed to come o'er them, 
 
 Their cheeks scarcely tinged with the color of shame ; 
 
'...^ 
 
 160 
 
 THE spirit's lament; 
 
 But the day of the promised redemption was coming, 
 
 Its dawn ushered in 'mid the chaos of war, 
 'Mid the gleaming of swords, the artillery 'j booming, 
 
 The comet arose in the firmament, far,*' 
 Far away from the scene of the parties contending 
 
 In battle array on Columbia's plains. 
 Where Britain reaped naught but defeat by expending 
 
 Her treasure and blood, to encircle with chains 
 A people endowed with a courage as warm 
 
 As ever to heroic Sparta belonged ; 
 Their watchword was < Home,' 'tis a cry that woulcl arm 
 
 The coward himself in the cause of the wronged. 
 How evenfiful the year when the victor was born, 
 
 The fortunes of England declined in that day, 
 In the western world her temples were shorn 
 
 Of laurels, the trophies of many a fray ; 
 For, then was the covenaiit formed that breathed 
 
 Defiance to despots and scorn to slaves, 
 And then was the chaplet entwined that enwreathed 
 
 The brows of the living, the patriot's graves. 
 Well, he came, but when infancy's moments had passed ^ 
 
 The school of the Frank was his boyhood's abode, — 
 Who succoured his fathers when Tyranny chased 
 
 Them forth ^rom the land which as dynasts they trod : 
 And their hands robed its emblem in splendors of light. 
 
 And tinted it round with the emerald hue 
 Of the evergreen shamrock, unfadingly bright, 
 
 And conquest its beams on their scimitars threw 
 
 In the halls of the College he gathered a name 
 Which promised hereafter to win him a place 
 On the scroll of distinction, where pencils of flamo 
 Sliould write him th« purest the best of his race. 
 Tlie day of his youthful probation expired ; 
 
 He quitted the vineyard to press the brown heath, 
 The coast of the Gaul from his vision retired, 
 He leaped on the land of destruction and death ; 
 
 
OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 161 
 
 
 t 
 
 f 
 
 He looked on the hills where in childhood he strayed, — 
 And grieved, for the track of Oppression was there, — 
 He gazed on the fields where his infancy played, 
 Their surface was trod by the foot of Despair ; 
 He viewed the clear lakes of his mountainous lioine, — 
 
 A tear of regret for the ages gone by, 
 When the dun-deer, pursued by the hunter, won id come 
 
 Refreshed from the waters that saddened his eye, 
 He brushed from his cheek, and he solemnly swore 
 
 His life to devote to redeem from the fangs 
 Of craven Corruption the prey whic!i he tore 
 
 From Erin while writhing in servitude's pangs. 
 He need not have sworn, for many a day 
 
 His course on this world below was assigned, — 
 A nation to bring to the slumbering bay, 
 
 Where victory floats, was the hero designed ; 
 He adheres to his vow, incorruptible^ still, 
 As when in the ardor of youth he began. 
 The watcher, unwearied, proceeds to fulfil 
 
 The duties imposed by a Higher than man ; 
 Hypocrisy's anodyne draught has no pov^'r 
 
 On the sentinel's sen'^- s, he's ever awake ; 
 Undazzled his sight by le magical ore 
 
 Wh^'^^o brightness enchants like the glance of the snake. 
 The scoff of the venal, the hate of the vile, 
 The festering poison on flattery's tongue, 
 The offers of Place and the whispers of Guile 
 
 Ana the open assaults of the renegade throng, 
 Alike he despises ; contemn* ig the snares 
 
 Of the worthless and wicked, ho lashes them all, 
 Unheeding the cries of the punished, nor spares 
 
 The traitorous friend who deceives, tho' he call 
 For quarter, and bid him reme:^ber when he 
 Had given his counsel and wielded his pen 
 In the cause ho upholds ; but the poltroon must be 
 Unscreened by his aid from the hisses of men. 
 
162 
 
 THE spirit's lament ; 
 
 You thought not the hour was so near for repose, 
 
 You did not conceive that by him would be stilled 
 The hurricane's fury ; you did not suppose 
 
 That he was the light, long expected, to gild, 
 The tow'rs of your fortress neglected and lone, 
 
 To chase off the shadow that covers its walls, 
 To bring back the SpMt of Joy who had flown 
 
 To seek lor « refuge in happier halls. 
 You thought he would come when the bullets were flyin g. 
 
 When Ruin and Riot through Erin would pour 
 Their volcanic fires, when the rebel, tho' dying, 
 
 His thirst would assuage in his enemies gore. 
 Well, so 'twas determined and so it has been, 
 
 But Ireland was not the arena of strife, 
 The kingdom's restorer appeared when the keen 
 
 Tomahawk scalped and the backwoodsman's knife. 
 More dreaded than sword of Saladin, pierced through 
 
 The gorgeted breasts of the braggart array, — 
 When the men of the wilds, undisciplined and few, 
 
 Showed England what freemen may do in the fray. 
 You hear those wild shouts that come thick on the gale,* 
 
 They rise from a shire that the blue billow laves, 
 They come from a people whose bosom's reveal 
 
 A spirit as fierce as the gholes of their caves. 
 Yet gentle as birds that in summer time stem 
 
 Their way from the North to revisit this shore, 
 That sport in the light of the sun's brilliant beam, 
 
 And ride on the ocean unawed by its roar. 
 T^et Rapine molest them, they'll wait for the hour 
 
 When, suspicion allayed, he reclines in the trust 
 That grim Retribution, abashed by his pow'r, 
 
 The dagger lays by to corrode in its rust. 
 He believes in a shadow, — no guards can protect 
 
 The brutal oppressor, — surprised, unprepared, 
 The lawless arraign and the injured convict, 
 
 The cause of their sorrows unpitied, unheard. 
 
 T 
 
 t 
 
 4< 
 
 • Tho Clare Election, one of the Uberator'a most memorable triiunpbi, !• h«r» 
 
OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 1 
 
 i 
 
 « 
 
 The bullet of vengeance deprives him of life 
 
 Whose days had been passed 'neath the banner of death, 
 
 Who headed the legions of famine and strife, 
 And aiding their arms exhaled his last breath. 
 
 Let Sympathy soothe them a moment, and they, 
 
 Who were fierce as the nanther that nrowla in the wr>nd, 
 
 X X - - y 
 
 When springing he rends but the throat of his prey, 
 
 So madden'd by thirst he but drinks of the blood. 
 Are mild as the potted gazelle that will feed 
 
 From the hand of its mistress, caressing, caressed, 
 Tho' fearful its nature and timid its breed. 
 
 Yet kindness can quiet the throbs of its breast. 
 Those loud acclamations proclaim that at length 
 
 The prison-house portals are standing ajar. 
 Where for ages a nation was wasting its strength 
 
 To shatter each lock and to shiver each bar ; 
 But useless the effort, till he, at whose weird 
 
 Accents Hope flutters, his shoulders applied 
 To the iron-bound gate which the janitor feared 
 
 Would suddenly give 'neath the rush from outside 
 It opened to prudence ; O'Connell is aow 
 
 The delegate chosen by Clare to portray 
 The onerous ills of his country, and show 
 
 The power of peace in political fray ; 
 The world is wondering at his success, 
 
 And despots are crouching, and tyrants bend low, 
 And thousands revere him, and mvriads bless 
 
 The source v.hence the streams of beatitude flow ; 
 But how will they marvel when louder ton«s peal. 
 
 When laurels are added to those he has won. 
 When his country, adoring her champion, shall ku«el 
 
 To him as its worshipper kneels to the sun ! 
 Tlien haste thee with me, for thy mourning is o'er, 
 
 Much sorrow has shaded those beautiful eyes, 
 They'll beam with delight in my own starry bow'r, 
 
 Ai the matins of freedom ascend to the ikiea 
 
164 
 
 THB spirit's lament; 
 
 From the valos of lerno ; we'll watch the career 
 Of the shepherd inviting the flock to its fold • 
 We'll shield him from danger and breathe in his ear 
 
 ihe counsels of wisdom alone, and unfold 
 To his vision the schemes of implacable foes, 
 
 And give him the key to each hidden design : 
 The knowledge of spirits no wiles can oppose 
 
 And thus will he triumph by your aid and mine " 
 The traces of anguish at once disappeared 
 
 From the guardian's fair features; her face, that before 
 Was dark with the gloom of depression, declared 
 
 The feeUngs that flooded the innermost core 
 Of her heart to o'erflowing, unreined, unrepressed,-^ 
 
 For passions of purity sometimes will sway 
 Th' unearthly as well as humanity's breast ; 
 
 The wall of philosophy 's borne away 
 By the current of ardor,—" Then hurry with me " 
 
 She wildly replied, " For I will not consent 
 To visit your luminous home till I see 
 
 The herald of joy whom the Deity sent." 
 They flew, and they found him they looked for, surrounded 
 
 By hundreds of thousands, the lord of the whole ; 
 His voice was a spell at which each bosom bounded, 
 ^ And clear was the flame that waslit in each soul. ' 
 Twas an ominous date in Hibernia's story, 
 When myriads hailed him the chosen of Clare ; 
 She gave him the chariot that bore him to glory,' 
 The first to awake from the slumber of fear. ' 
 Let hers be the honor of having first given 
 
 To the Prince of the people the scentre which he 
 Shall adorn with diamonds ; of having first riven 
 The fetters that trammelled the sons of the ree. 
 
 «. Mv viffil is nynr • T fl,rv,,~l,i j.. i ■« ., , * 
 
 o - ^ — ^- • > i iixvugxii, lo iiiive Dreauied 
 The unquenchable fire of the patriot thro' 
 The soul of the Heaven-inspired, and bequeathed 
 The gift of unshaken fidelity to 
 
 ^ 
 
OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 165 
 
 J' 
 
 The Pride of the kingdom. The gift is not wanted ; 
 
 Truth, vigor and virtue are stamped on his brow ; 
 What I looked for, impatiently looked for, is granted, 
 
 My hopes and my wishes are gratified now. 
 The lines of his life are depicted so clearly 
 
 I see each event of his journey below; 
 Some will slight all his efforts, some follow sincerely 
 
 The banner he waves in the wind to and fro ; 
 And some will but simulate friendship while seeking 
 
 By sly inuendo to weaken his hold 
 On the minds of the million, and some will be breaking 
 
 The strong coalition of peace to uphold 
 The dogmas of war, and their own reputations 
 For eloquence, intellect, judgment, and wit : 
 If they follow they'll sink in the shade ; their orations 
 ^ Must teixd to demonstrate that he is unfit 
 To lead, who has saved from contempt and derision, 
 
 Who has oped to their footsteps the road to renown, 
 Who has struggled to raise them from servile submission. 
 
 To rule as they should in a land of their own ; 
 Who, when he had dragged them from vile degradation. 
 
 Were lavish of praise and profuse of their vows ; 
 Let history judge 'tween their tergiversation 
 
 And him, whose high aim they were pledged to espouse, 
 The cause of the country, of truth, of existence, 
 
 They fled when the streaks of its morn were faint 
 
 When he shall have triumphed without their assistance, 
 
 Upon tliem shall rest the indelible taint 
 Of treason, to her they were sworn to succour 
 
 In storm or sunshine, in peril or pain. 
 Nor cease in their efforts until she would brook her 
 
 Submissive no more to ascendancy's chain ; 
 When their names shall be uttered but with execration, 
 
 Their memories cursed and their ashes reviled. 
 When the lips, that were moving in meek supplication 
 For rest to the faithful departed, are stilled, 
 
166 
 
 THE spirit's lament ; 
 
 »1 
 
 For they could not give sound to the prayer, as floating 
 
 Before the mind's-eye of the kneeling appeared 
 The spirits of those who in life were uprooting 
 
 The base of the temple O'Connell had reared — 
 When their graves are insulted, polluted, deserted, 
 
 Their head-stones in fragments, no action to call 
 For a sigh, and the patriot's head is averted, 
 
 Lest haply his glance on the lone hillock faU, 
 Where the renegades rest ; when their offspring forsaken 
 
 At last shall be desolate wanderers on 
 The wilds of this world, when Freedom has taken 
 
 Unsatisfied vengeance upon each poltroon; 
 On the hearts of the multitude shall be recorded 
 
 The deeds of the man whom they sought to malign, 
 And far in the depths of their souls shall be hoarded 
 
 Each fond recollection as sacred, divine ; 
 His name shall be spoken in deep veneration. 
 
 With hands high uplifted, the pious shall send 
 To the God of their worship the strong adjuration. 
 
 For mercy to him, their protector and friend ; 
 And He, who is pleased at sincerity's voice. 
 
 Will hearken to those who the orison pour. 
 While seraphs are gladdened and angels rejoice. 
 
 As the Deity grants what the fervent implore. 
 What dread labyrinthian mazes surround him, — 
 
 The rapids of law and the gulph of deceit ;— 
 And the loom of Seduction is weaving around hhu 
 
 A web to entangle his head, heart and feet; 
 And Power is forging his bolts to affright him, 
 
 And Apathy talks of his doubts and his fears, 
 And Pension his pageant prepares to delight him. 
 
 While PrejuJit*^ foams and Monopoly swears. 
 Unmoved by appi. ises, by threats undismayed, 
 
 Unwon by tht v omise, unboughtby the bribe, 
 By force or corruption unchecked or unswayed, 
 
 And dead to the bigot's or fanatic's gibe. 
 
 ,. 
 
 IP 
 
OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 167 
 
 V 
 
 He'll press to the signal that burns so brightly, — 
 
 The beacon of Concord, on Liberty's coast. 
 Nor cease in his task, either daily or nightly. 
 
 Till tlie headlai ds be rounded he dreaded the most. 
 Wliere now is the sigh of despondence and gloom, 
 
 Where misery raves as she wipes off the tear, 
 The roses of pleasure shall scatter their bloom. 
 
 And joyfulness float on the sweet-scented air. 
 Where now is the groan of the captive ill-starred, 
 
 The echoing cheer of the freeman shall sound ; 
 While high to the strain of the fire-breathing bard. 
 
 The heart in each bosom that hears it shall bound. 
 Where now naught is uttere4 but poverty's moan, 
 
 Commingled at times with the hiss of revenge, 
 The warblings melodious of competence soon 
 
 Will change to forgiveness the wish to avenge. 
 Where now Sorrow, wearing Malignity's yoke, 
 
 So feebly arranges the funeral veil 
 The festering corpse of Hibernia to cloak. 
 
 And bury it, cased in oblivion's shell, 
 Supported by Riot, deep, deep in the tomb 
 
 Which Selfishness dug with a brain-spattered spade, 
 While the kites of attainder and perjury come 
 
 To seize on the chattels of her they betrayed ; 
 Then shall Happiness, decked in her garments of white, 
 
 Throw over the rescued one's beautiful form 
 The robes for the bridal, while hymns of delight 
 
 Are carolled in softness, hymns holy and warm. 
 And pure as the prayer which the lover pours forth 
 
 For the weal of his mistress, ere Avarice steals 
 The sigh to which passion had first given birth, 
 
 And bright as the tear ere Ambition congeala 
 The heavenly drop that exudes from the soul. 
 
 Ere on it the cloud of impurity falls, 
 Where the graces and virtues reside, ere the foul 
 Tn of the serpent is seen on its walls ; 
 
168 
 
 f'p' 
 
 THE SPIRIT S LAMENT ; 
 
 And lead her, resplendent in loveliness, to 
 
 The towering temple where Plenty resides, 
 -Where Glory, arrayed as a bridegroom, shall woo 
 
 A smile from the lips of the fairest of brides ; 
 And Piety's blessing shall hallow the vows. 
 
 And Hope shall encompass them round with her zone 
 All studded with gems, while Fidelity strews 
 
 The pavement with flowers, with pearls the throne, 
 And, kneeling in suppliant attitude, sues 
 
 Her Deity's aid for the new wedded one, 
 And Freedom will nod her assent, while the hues 
 
 Of her horizon blaze with a brightness unknown. 
 The ominous masses, that shadow her sky. 
 
 Shall soon be dispelled by the health-bringing breez© 
 Agitation will bear on his march, while on high 
 
 The planet of conquest its splendor displays. 
 And scatters the vapors which Tyranny raised, 
 
 Its effulgence undimm'd, and its disc unobscured. 
 And nations shall look on its lustre, amazed 
 
 That an orb of such beauty was ever immured. 
 Bright spirit, I'm ready to hasten with thee, 
 
 My wanderings cease ; Irom this moment I bow 
 To the will of a prescient Providence ; see 
 
 The halo immortal that corruscates now 
 Arounf! liim. Yet stay, can I leave no bequest 
 
 To him to whom's given this island's control ? 
 No, the hand of a Greater than I has imprest 
 
 The seal of its bounty deep, deep on his soul. 
 Tho' destined to conquer, 1*11 often be near him, ^ 
 
 To soothe him in sorrow, to sweeten his sleep ; 
 When friends shall desert him, FU hasten to cheer him, 
 
 And carefullv treasure each droi:* he may weep. 
 When years havo rolled onward and death shall have taken 
 
 The peerless, the stainless, the spotless, the good, 
 3 lis actions shall burn, a luminous beacon 
 
 To keep the unpui'chased on liberty's road, 
 
OR, THE WRONGS OF IREXAND. 
 
 169 
 
 Ji 
 
 And even the dust in his people-wept grave 
 
 Shall flicker at times with a phosphoric light, 
 And flash its disdain on the gold-seeking slave, 
 
 Desiring the slumber of slavery's night ; 
 As the sail-crowded ship, from the port disappearing, 
 
 When ploughing the billow that bears her away 
 To the orient wavelet, and, proudly careering, 
 
 She urges her course thro' the glittering spray, 
 Is tracked by an iris, its colors far throwing. 
 
 And varied as fire-works shot into the air. 
 When tho sky seems a river with crimson gems glowing 
 
 And bearing its gifts to enrich the parterre ;*^ 
 'Tis thus that the flame from his ashes shall glisten. 
 
 The lamp in the vault where hesleeps shall display, 
 A radiance undying, while Senators hasten 
 
 To catch but a glimpse of the silvery ray. 
 The souls of the Roman and Grecian around it 
 
 Shall wander ; the ghost of the Czar-trampled Pole, 
 Of the Belgian who died for his home, shall sing round it 
 
 The sufferer's solace, the patriot's goal ; 
 While towards it the smile of Columbia's borne, 
 
 Though chastened perhaps by a sorrowful sigh, 
 That the star which had ushered in liberty's morn 
 
 Should have fallen so soon from its zenith on high. 
 Each bosom that's lit with the fuel of honor 
 
 Shall swell as the tale of his conquests is told. 
 The island shall sink 'neath the pressure upon her 
 
 Surface, as millions come here to behold 
 « The Grave of the Prophet,' and, bending low o'er it, 
 
 They'll drink of the incense that's shed by the hands 
 Of ministering angels, and silent adore it, 
 
 Ahu. steal of the pCTfume to bring to their lands. 
 I part from you now, with a feeling aldn 
 
 To that of the suitor who hurries each day 
 To the home of his mistress, expecting to win 
 
 The prize that will soothe for whole years of delay ; 
 
170 
 
 THE SPIRIT S LAMENT ; 
 
 'Tis hard to obtain it, yet every minute 
 
 Brings nearer tlie close of a chafing suspense ; 
 The task is exciting, there's some magic in it, 
 
 ri»at fetters each passion and maddens each sense 
 S i'ltli the rapture of drunkenness ; neglect of the lo^'er, 
 
 Which first used to chill his advances, decays, — 
 Her fondness each moment increases, and over 
 
 The enH- o^ his courtship a volcanic blaze 
 Is plainly distinguished, and he who had dreaded 
 
 To look on the picture that ravished his sight 
 And softened his nature, at last is imbedded 
 
 In bowers illumined by Love's golden light. 
 Thus shall I behold this political fever, 
 
 This storm of prejudice, dying away, 
 Till Bigotry's self with his falchion shall sever 
 
 The chords that corroded 'neath Tyranny's sway. 
 x\y, thus shall it be, till at last the affections 
 
 Of every party around you shall twine, 
 All creeds and all sects, of all shades and complexions, 
 
 Shall kneel in one temple and pray at one shrine ; 
 Where liberty's pamphlets the neophyte's primer, 
 
 And truth is the doctrine the law-givers spread, 
 While the tapers of peace thro' its area glimmer, 
 
 And faith is the text by the ministers read. 
 On, on to the battle ; hard work is before you,^- 
 
 The insult shall meet you, the sneer may offend, 
 The whinings of Doubt will be heard to implore you, 
 
 And Dullness his rule of submission commend ; 
 The brainless will offer their services to you, 
 
 And Anarchy bluster, and Madness declaim, 
 While Int'rest asserts that he only can show you 
 
 The speuuicst passage to saicty anu. lame. 
 Let them praise or asperse, let them flatter or tlireaten, 
 
 Your journey is marked, you have but to go through 
 Each stage ; if you find that the horses are beaten 
 
 Up and unfit for the road, you'll get new. 
 
 i 
 
 f4 
 
OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 171 
 
 i 
 
 i 
 
 The time will yet come, tho' far distant the day, 
 
 When Ireland has wept her regrets, that you'll take 
 My station of guardian, and watch o'er the ray 
 
 That brightens each dell in the country, and 'wake 
 Her sons, should they sink in the coma of sloth, 
 
 Lest Rapine should steal on their slumbers once moro,- 
 His visit aye preludes pollution and death, — 
 
 They feel the eftects of his advent of yore. 
 For so do I read, what is stamped by the hand 
 
 Of Fate on the lines I so legibly trace. " 
 When parted from earth, you shall watch o'er the land 
 
 Which living you dragged from the pit of disgrace ; 
 Each season alternate we'll float o'er the island. 
 
 And warble the sweet strain of gladness alone, 
 O'er every portion of your land and my land. 
 
 And proud hearts shall flutter on hearing the tone. 
 Proceed in your passage to conquest ; the blessing 
 
 Of Heaven protects you. On, on to the fight ; 
 See Justice is struggling, and Riot is hissing 
 
 His hate on the forces that seek for their right. 
 Farewell, I depart to a luminous sphere, 
 
 Where beings of purity only may dwell, 
 To pray for the mind that replaces me here, — 
 
 O'Connell, the glory of Ireland, farewell." 
 
 Some years have rolled back to the ocean of time 
 
 Since the spirit soliloquised thus, ere she flew 
 On her pinions of gold to eternity's clime ; 
 
 And events have confirmed each sentence as true. 
 Tho morn of danger was opening when she 
 
 Resigned her commission, as sentinel, to 
 The breaker of statutes : the noon came and he 
 
 Still laughed his comtempt at the threats of the foe. 
 Ere she went to her home he had chosen his ground, 
 
 He had rescued his land from a religious yoke. 
 Those tied to ascendancy's car he unbound, 
 
 Its shafts he consumed and its harness he broke ; 
 
172 
 
 THE SPIRITS lament; 
 
 Tho' Grattan was great, tho* untiring he strove, 
 
 Tho* aided by wisdom and guided by wit, 
 Tho' eloquence for him her diadem wove, 
 
 Compared to this triumph his lab »urs were light* 
 How vivifying is it to think on the day 
 
 When our volunteers nobly asserted their right. 
 When Victory headed them on to the fray, 
 
 And each arm brandished the battle-axe bright ; 
 When a wavering Government trembled before 
 
 The martial procession ; when Albion's throne 
 Was crumbling beneath the impetuous roar 
 
 Of the tempest that threatened to batter it down. 
 Tho' Kingdoms may totter and dynasties fall, 
 
 And nature itself be in chaos ent ^bed, 
 Yet the frown of the despot not long can appal. 
 
 Where the breezes of nationhood ever have boomed ; 
 The fire of a chivalrous people can never 
 
 Be quenched, tho' the waters of ocean have neared. 
 Ay, and covered the embers, they'll burn for t ■ ei , 
 
 The blaze may be low but the crackling is heard ; 
 The flame, that then warmed the citizen soldier, 
 
 Glows brilliantly now as when Charlemcat swayed 
 The bellicose bands, but a wiser and bolder 
 
 Chieftain leads now than the one they obeywd. 
 What he could not do, tho' supported by those 
 
 Whose genius reflected a lustre divine, 
 lake that which the sun o'er the white breaker throws,, 
 
 When worn with travel he drinks of the brine, 
 A greater effected, and — mark their disgrace ! — 
 
 He harnessed the lead-shunning Wellington and 
 The crafty politic Peel to the trace 
 
 Of the chariot he drove with a conqueror's hand. 
 But more was yet wanted, — the Act must be broken 
 
 That paralysed Erin in every nerve > 
 The shout must go forth and the charm be spoken. 
 To rend the false parchment ; no arm must swerve 
 
 ^ 
 
 \ 
 
 '■ 
 
 '' 
 
 1 
 
OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 17; J 
 
 pk 
 
 V 
 
 X 
 
 im 
 
 From the duty allotted, when all arc collected 
 
 Together, to see that each lino is erased ; 
 No eye must be sad, and no heart be dejected, 
 
 Each pulse must be strong, and each sinew be braced. 
 Lest the lawyers dissent and the notaries waver. 
 
 And the Court disapprove of the course we pursue, — 
 But our country is dearer than life, — we must save her ; 
 
 If Finesse oppose we shall cut a way throng) i 
 The ramparts she raises. The charm is uttered, — 
 
 The ink-dabbled scriveners haste to obey 
 The spell which the lips of the wizard have muttered : 
 
 No effort can check and no power can stay 
 Its effects, if we follow the course which the python 
 
 Prescribes, — he has vanquished the hydra ere now, — 
 Already the clouds in the firmament brighten. 
 
 The horizon gleams with the many-hued bow. 
 When first he proposed the Repeal, he was worried 
 
 By some to desist, — thac the project was vain ; 
 Venality fled, even Friendship was flurried, 
 And vituperation denounced him amain ; 
 The Saxon was puzzled, amazed at his daring. 
 And Europe in wonder beheld him proceed 
 In his titanic labor, unshrinking, unfearing ; 
 
 The Press of the robber the scaffold decreed 
 To the reckless adventurer ; Envy assailed hmi. 
 
 Detraction maligned him. Equality smiled 
 Her assent on his essay, and Hope never failed him, — 
 
 With scorn he paid back the host who reviled ; 
 And Ireland, confounded, looked on in a a tremor. 
 
 And marvelled if he, her defender, was sane, 
 As she saw him unfurl the emerald streamer 
 
 That fluttered so oft o'er the corpse of the Dane.— 
 His acts told the statesman, his courage denoted 
 
 The soul of the soldier. Philosophy played 
 Her part in the drama ; Ferocity, booted 
 And girded and helmeted, offered his aid *' 
 
174 
 
 THE spirit's lament ; 
 
 n ! 
 
 In the coming encounter ; his help was rejected ; 
 
 Morality only dis3iplined his force, — 
 And Caution advised him, and Prudence directed, 
 
 And Talent and Tact were the guides of his course. 
 His numbers at first were not many, but after 
 
 A time, he had hosts to support a design 
 So vast, when *twas bruited that Freedom wculd waft her 
 
 Blessings and pray'rs to a cause so divine. 
 And now a whole nation is marshalled around him. 
 
 Both willing and able lo do his behest : 
 Wo, wo to the idiot attempting to wound him, 
 
 The swords of a million would blaze in his breast ! 
 And yet tho* his guards far outnumber Uie legions. 
 The snow-circled Muscovite King may command. 
 Should each Cossack, that roams o'er his northern regions, 
 
 Obeying his manda;;e, seize hold of the brand, 
 He will not depart f om what virtue imposes ; 
 Rocourse to the rifle his object would mar, 
 Each scene of a life so eventful discloses 
 
 The truth of his statement — he wishes not war. 
 Each hill-top would swarm v/ith men, did he bid them 
 
 Plunge forward and grapple the Sassenach's throat,—- 
 Tho' conflict upbraided and violence chid them 
 
 For coldness, his voice would be harmony's note. 
 The meetings at Mullaghmast, Mallow, and Nenah, 
 
 The pow'r of the multitude's monarch attest, 
 The deep stilly silence, that reigned over Tara, 
 
 But told of the lightning that played in each breast,— 
 Which the chemist could stay at his pleasure, or gather 
 
 Each forked sheet that curved into one mass of fire, 
 'Till the gulph-streams should mirror the flame, and the 
 heather 
 Reflect the effulgence that burnished each spire. 
 uy a process, uut iinown to himself, ho allayed 
 
 The fluid electric that promised to rest 
 On the broom of the hill, on the moss of the glade ; 
 To a halo he changed what appeared but a pest. 
 
 i 
 
OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 175 
 
 er 
 
 f 
 
 i 
 
 Tho' lonely he struggled at first in his onset 
 
 On the van of Corruption, 'twas but for a time 
 He was thus unsupported ; the mellow eve's sunset 
 
 Oft brightens a scene which at morn was dim. — 
 The beings, who looked on his efforts as madness, 
 
 Are foremost among his suppor+ers at length, 
 The tried ones have hailed the traducers with gladness, 
 
 Recruits are for ever increasing his strength. 
 Just so the small streamlet that r as from the bleak heights, 
 
 Unheeded, unnoticed, proceeds on its way. 
 Surmounting each grey rock, attempting to break its 
 
 Passage thro* wilds it bedews with its spray, — 
 ' Some wandering rivulet meetti it, when kisses 
 
 Of welcome the wards of Aquarius press 
 On each other, so great are the emigrant's blisses, 
 
 They mingle for life in a blending caress, 
 Then onward they glide in a serpentine rout. 
 
 Obstructed and broken by deluge-cleft rocks, 
 Low lisping their numbers, and twining about 
 
 The antedeluvian reKcs, w^hile brooks 
 Bring their rippling supply to the affianced volume. 
 
 When madly all rush in their turbulent might, — 
 No bounds can repress as they dash to o'erwhelm 
 
 The beauties which nature revealed to the sight, 
 Ere, bearing the high-polished present to render 
 
 As token of homage, to Neptune, their God ; 
 They form a river and gently meander. 
 
 Then sink in the vaults of the caverned flood. 
 To the taker of cities the ancients awarded 
 
 A crown, as a trophy of courage and zeal; 
 The victor in contests Olympic rewarded, 
 
 While loudly the timbrels emitted their peal : 
 But what is the prize which to him should be given, 
 
 Who loaded not cities with chains, but who need 
 A nation from fetters of iron ? but Heaven 
 
 Itself, and not man, will repay for the deed I 
 
176 
 
 THE SPIRIT*S lament; 
 
 
 Not his was the play of the pastime Olympian, 
 Where muscular power alone could oppose ; 
 No, he entered the lists where the dreaded Leviathan 
 
 Disdainfully stood with liis casque on his brows. 
 Who was backed by the lances of Bigotry, ready 
 
 To pounce on the firm assailant, when he, 
 As it had been expected, would fall, but his steady 
 
 Attacks on their forces compelled them to flee ; 
 And Bribery sought to distract his attention, 
 
 By holding his gold-covered palm to his sight ; 
 And who were his friends in the breathless contention? 
 
 The love of his people, Truth, Justice and Right ; 
 And what was the issue ? In spite of the hirelings ■ 
 
 Of frothing Ascendancy, spite of the taunt 
 Of bellowing Crime, and the lip-dragging snarlings 
 
 Of Ribaldry's dogs, or the fanatic's cant, 
 He bore off the palm from the beaten oppressor, 
 
 And Ireland is partly unyoked from her thongs, 
 The nations are hurrying now to caress her, 
 The loud epinicion swells from the gongs. 
 To what holier cause can a mortal devote * 
 
 His life, than to freeing the land of his sires * ^ 
 From the pressure of clattering irons which rot 
 
 The flesh on her bones ere the captive expires ? 
 How cheering the task, when each deep aspiration 
 
 She heaves is but wafted to Freedom and Homo ! 
 If we look at the records that tell of this nation, 
 Her worship of those is inscribed on the tome. 
 By the blood of her childrens' bravest attested ; 
 
 Tho' failures of projects their useiessness proved. 
 Yet unyielding, again and again they contested 
 
 To win back her own for the country they loved. 
 But vain the enthusiasts' ardor, and bootless 
 
 in; TTttiiiui 3 ssiiOut, vviiiio trie orators speli 
 But lured to defeat and disaster, and fruitless 
 The song of the minstrel— it warbled her knell. 
 
 n 
 
 i 
 
;lip'/^: 
 
 
 !T 
 
 
 
 OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 17'/ 
 
 Tho' champions appeared, yet their allies were parted- 
 Estranged from their side by the witchcraft of gold. 
 
 Tho* victory budded, the blossoms departed 
 
 No flower can flourish in apathy's cold, 
 That blasts where it visii. -Fame, fluttering on 
 
 Her sun-tinted feathers, her clarion blew, 
 Th* hurras of their followers, borne upon 
 
 The car of the answering elementti, flew 
 On their journey thro* ether, and seemed to deride 
 Disaster, while Echo, within her recess, 
 
 To the swift-flying warison boldly replied 
 
 If Discord retired they were sure of success. 
 The towers of Glory their altitude raised 
 
 High, high up to Heaven, and seemed to invite 
 Their ascent, and the hand of the soldier nigh seized 
 
 The leaflets that nodded and tempted his sight ; 
 The crown of distinction its brightness displayed 
 /VU sparkling with rays as it shone at his feet, 
 Like visions of slumber 'twas destined to fade,— 
 
 In dreams we have treasures, at morn they fleet. 
 Before him the plains in their beauty extended ; 
 
 The lakes in their loveliness smilingly slept, 
 The music of spring-birds in gladness ascended. 
 
 And cascades of silver in buoyaucy leaped ; 
 How charming the picture! 'till reachery breath d 
 His poison thereon, when iiiM landscape revealed, 
 Instead of the vales m luxuriance sheathed. 
 
 The palace in ashes, the ru'z:i strewn field ; 
 The hopes were all crushed which Fidelity cherished, 
 
 To rise not again iu their verdure till now ; 
 The fabric that rose m lis magnitude perished, 
 The diadem graced not the aspirant's brow. 
 The face of t]<e prospect is cteeked iu the color 
 
 That lavished its light on the prototype then ; 
 The sky i« serener, tho firmament fuller 
 Of tints, ur;ul now, undiscovered, unseen. 
 
178 
 
 THE SPIRIT S LAMENT ; 
 
 
 I 
 
 Its floods have descended, they bubbled around him, 
 
 Who braved all their fury, the captor of Peel, 
 The' torrents were pouring and drenching, they found him 
 
 Unwavering ever with bosom of steel. 
 Before tliis they spent all their violence on him, 
 
 lie cared not, so those he protected were saved. 
 The tempest swept o'er him, no bolt rushed upon him. 
 
 And Ireland her pennant of gratitude waved ; 
 Yes, the door of the dungeon was oped to receive him, 
 
 The charge — he had lived for his country alone. 
 And sought to restore her, — but Sympathy gave him 
 
 Her tears, all the treasure she had of her own. 
 Humanity shuddered to look on his spirit, 
 
 So teeming with goodness and kindness to men, 
 Thus loaded with insults, which surely would wear it, 
 
 If pride in his acts did not raise it again. 
 How keen was the anguish Of Ireland, whenever. 
 
 And that was each minute, at gloaming and dawn, 
 She thought on the martyr, undaunted, no shiver 
 
 Or sigh to denote his approach to a fawn ! 
 And well might he boast, tho' in dreary confinement 
 
 The heart of his kind was his throne evermore, 
 The venom of hatred and torture's refinement 
 
 But proved how the soul of the captive cou^d soar 
 And bask in the smile of congenial Heaven, 
 
 Communing w^ith beings whose essence was fire. . 
 How useless were bolts in that hour, they were riven, 
 
 The clay was on earth but the spirit was high'r. 
 Each city was silent, each village was lonely, 
 
 And commerce was hushed, there was gloom on each face. 
 The name . x O'Connell, of him, and him only. 
 
 Did the pencil of Ireland despondingly trace ; 
 The embers v/itliin the volcano were sleeping, 
 
 A vent was but wanted to kindle a flame 
 That would melt the alembic of arrogance, sweeping 
 To the shores of oblivion Hibernia's shame ; 
 
 ( 
 I 
 
 ] 
 
 I 
 
OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 179 
 
 m 
 
 
 ! 
 
 • 
 
 Had he given the signal, the sword of rebellion 
 
 Would have leaped from its scabbard of iron and found 
 A blood-dripping sheath in the breast of a million 
 
 Of tyrants, their flesh would have nourished the ground ; 
 Tho' manacled, harrassed, insulted, and goaded, 
 
 By the tools of injustice, affection for her, 
 Who'^^ weal was the life-pulse within him, foreboded 
 
 Disasters from conquest but reaped by the spear. 
 The gate of Kilmainham, which closed on the form 
 
 Of Ireland's deliverer, sounded the knell 
 Of Saxon dominion — the pitiful worm 
 
 Intolerance spawns must expire in its shell. 
 The gaoler unwillingly opened the portal, 
 
 The victor came forth from his solitude dim, 
 Sublimer and grander than ever, immortal 
 
 The splendors that circled in lustre around him. 
 On his exit, a kingdom in homage was kneeling, 
 
 The murmer of age and the lisp of the child 
 Repeated the wrongs of the martyr, revealing 
 
 His hold on a people of passions so wild. 
 They sought for his downfall, the effort availed not ; 
 
 Like the pho3nix that rises anew from its dust, 
 His strength was increased by the storm ; he quailed not 
 
 To reptiles, the offspring of lewdness or lust. 
 His troops are unnumbered ; they eagerly follow, 
 
 For Fortune must smile on her favorite son, 
 Tho' Ascendancy scream and Dulocracy bellow, 
 
 Their turrets must fidl, their intrenchments be won ; 
 But where are the engines of war to assail them, 
 
 And where are the gunners to serve in the fight ? 
 His streamers are flying, but who is to nail them 
 
 On to the staff till eternity's night ? 
 His artillery's dreaded bv those he onnosos 
 
 Its roar affrights more than the glance of the steel, 
 The past has evinced, and the present discloses, 
 
 The pow'r of his much dreaded weapon, 'Repeal ;' 
 
180 
 
 THE SPIRITS lament; 
 
 And as to his pennants, strong arms are willing 
 
 To raise them, despising the timorous hind ; 
 Go look at the bosoms in Ireland now thrilling. 
 
 Then ask if his banners shall float in the wind. 
 We dare the base felon to keep what she plundered — 
 
 The horizon threatens, she'll look for our aid, — 
 It served her belbre when the grim cannon thundered, 
 
 When the guns of DeGrasse in her own channel brayed ; 
 'Twill serve her once more if she yield up her booty. 
 
 Her stay in the battle is ready again 
 To do, as Trafalgar attested, her * duty', 
 
 To sweep thro' the ocean or rush o*er the plain. 
 But let her beware that she act not unfairly, 
 
 A reckoning must come tho* it may be delayed, 
 When vengeance will seek retribution, and dearly 
 
 She'll pay for the spoil at the point of the blade. 
 W'.i wait for her answer, we trust 'twill be kindly, 
 
 The tenets of peace we have only been taught ; 
 Let her rouse not the wolf dog, he rushes on blindly. 
 
 And howling he died whom his fangs ever caught. 
 Advance men, be sterling, be seen not to waver, 
 
 A false step would peril the cause you support, 
 Can you think, for a moment, the Deity gave her 
 
 The land of your love for malignity's sport ; 
 Unknown be dissensions. Disunion has scattered 
 
 His deadly miasma through nationhood's band 
 Before this, they fell, and his red lightnings shattered 
 
 Their arms, then let not the traitor command. 
 Be firm, and trust to his counsels who brought you 
 
 Unscathed so far thro* the enemy's lines, 
 Obey but the lesson your leader has taught you, 
 
 And Heaven will smile on your hallowed designs ; 
 Be true to your country, disgrace not your fathers. 
 
 Their bones are reposeless while you remain slaves ; 
 Up, up, ere the withering mildew o'er-gathera 
 
 The oaks that adorn your ancestors' graves, 
 
 4 
 
OR, THE WnONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 181 
 
 ^. 
 
 We must have our birthright, we want no protection,— 
 
 Ay, that is the word,— let the world behold— 
 The succour extended— a prostrate subjection 
 
 Shall never disgrace us again, as of old ; 
 They called it a boon, but the mark is half torn 
 
 From off us ; whenever we wear it again 
 May we perish unpitied, and Baseness inurn 
 
 Our dust, while our spirits are shrieking in pain ! 
 When England was savage, unknown and unlettered, 
 
 The eagles of science flew over our shore, 
 Tlie sun of the universe, loved and unfettered, 
 
 She beamed on the earth, and she'll do so once m^re. 
 She's now like her oak that so gracefully rises, 
 
 Secure in his strength, tho' denuded and bare, 
 Tho' pining in sadness, he gallantly kisses 
 
 The rays which ht^ courts as he nods in the air ; 
 The scythe of cold winter has stripped all his arms. 
 
 To the worn and weary he offers no shade, 
 To screen from the rage of the buffeting str rms 
 
 That rock o'er the mountain and tear thro' the glade ; 
 *Tis but for a time he's deprived of his awning. 
 
 The zephyrs that come in the spring-time revive 
 The sorrowing king, and, when summer is dawning. 
 
 His branches, arrayed in their green garments, give 
 A homo to the houseless, while gay birds are singing, 
 
 'Neath the leaves of the cloud-cleaving giant, their strain 
 And youths are enfolding, and maidens are Ringing 
 
 Endearingly round them love's roseate chains. 
 Oh, would you not wish to see Ireland thus throwing 
 
 Her foliaged branches o'er every son. 
 No tempests to chill her, her flowerets blowing 
 
 In gorgeous luxuriance when others are gone ? 
 Oh, wouhl von not wish to see her, the neglected, 
 En\\Teathed with myrtle, emblazoned in light, 
 The bow'r of the Arts and the Muses, protected 
 By arms that never yet failed in the fight ? 
 
182 
 
 THE spirit's lament ; 
 
 Then haste to the rescue, a pigmy enthrals you, 
 Rest not for an instant, hear Tyranny's yelJ, 
 
 See, Victory beckons, and Liberty calls you,— 
 O'Connell is charging, his war-note " Repeal." 
 
 Montreal, January, 1347. 
 
 S 
 
 m 
 
 Si 
 
 •1 ■ 
 
 B 
 
 U 
 
 No.— The voice of him who would have urged us on 
 
 To actions worthy of Rome's brightest days, 
 Is silent now ; no more its swelling tone, 
 
 Fearful as tropic whirlwinds, shall amaze 
 And awe the tyrants of the world ; no more 
 
 The mind, that laboured ceaselessly to win 
 Back for his land her heritage, shall soar 
 
 On rushing wings, to pray at Freedom's shrine. 
 The heart, that throbbed beneath a hero's breast, . 
 
 Its vital principle his Cv^untry's love,— 
 Love, warm, rapturous, burning, unreprest,-— 
 
 Is senseless as the sculptured stone above 
 His sacred relics. But although the clay 
 
 Lies lowly in its deep sepulchral bed, 
 His spirit lives, and casts a burning ray 
 
 . Of living light above the mighty dead, 
 To mark his sleeping chamber.— Thro' all time, 
 
 While Time reigns lord of earth and its domains, 
 The coruscations of his deeds sublime 
 
 Shall flash effulgent in historic strains ; 
 And guide us to the pinnacle, where floats 
 
 The gorgeous banner of the Mountain Maid, 
 O'er angel minstrels fluttering, whose notes 
 
 Sweep from the lyre for him, the undismayed. 
 What, tho' he left us when the storm shook 
 
 Our island fortress to its very base, 
 Have we become again the slaves to brook 
 
 The mercenary Saxon—to erase 
 
 \ 
 
 I'r tl *< 
 
OR, THE WRONGS OF IRELAND. 
 
 183 
 
 \ 
 
 Its every vestige from our sainted land ? 
 
 Forbid it Heaven ! we have not yet forgot 
 His warning words who raised the fearless band, 
 
 'Mid treason true, 'mid traitors still unbought. 
 But tho' his weary pilgrimage be sped, — 
 
 The dark event is chronicled by tears, — 
 His virtues* heir is left us still, to lead 
 
 The countless masses disciplined by years ; — 
 A glorious noon is bursting on our shore, — 
 
 The father, watching from the spires of heaven, 
 Smiles on the son, impatient for the hour, 
 
 When he shall shout, " Rejoice, your chains are ri\ 
 
 en. 
 
 »? 
 
 \ 
 
 .\Iontreal, Augusr, 1847. 
 
 ; s » »^ 
 
J 
 
 1 
 
NOTES. 
 
 (1) This alludes to the battle of Benburle, in which 
 Munroo and his Covenanters were totally defeated by the 
 Irish under O'Neil. 
 
 (2) At the very moment their ablest General was thus 
 discomfiting their enemies, the wretched majority of the 
 Council in Kilkenny, were negociating a miserable peacv^ 
 with Ormond, merely stipulating for toleration m their 
 religion, and security in their estates, and completely throw- 
 ing aside the interests and feelings of the Northern Irish.— 
 The Confederatim of Kilkenny/, ty the Rev. C. P. Meekan. 
 
 (3) I have heard it asserted that O'Connell's family ori- 
 ginally belonged to Clare, and that he is a descendant of 
 the tribe of the Dalcais, the favorite troops of Brian Boroo. 
 
 (4) I have been told that Inochand Brainthree, situated 
 in the west of the County of Clare, were at one time in the 
 possession of the Liberator's family. 
 
 (5) This alludes to an individual named Cormack McCul- 
 lenan, who long since resided in Clare, and who, it is said, 
 
 'foretold the birth, fame, and fortunes of the late D, n 
 O'Connell, Esq., M. P. 
 
 (6) It is a historical fact that in 1641 and 1798 youiiR 
 children were treated by the loyalists, so called, m the 
 manner described in the text. 
 
 (7) The pious Augustine, who came over to England in 
 the sixth century. 
 
 (8) In the parish of Compton Gifford, there is no church, 
 but the tithes are paid, nevertheless ; one part was a few 
 vears since the property of a Banker, who was a Unitarmn, 
 and who has sold it to a Captain of a man-of-war ! The 
 other part belongs to the Vicar of the parish of St. Charles 
 
 ened, or buried in Compton Gifford, in his lifetime.— iA« 
 Catholic, {Kingston, Canada West) 
 

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186 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 (9) The tithes of the parish of Brenton, near Tavistock, 
 ai-e received by the Duke of Bedford, who pays a small 
 salary to a parson for performing divine service once every 
 Sunday. — Catholic, {Kingston, Canada West.) 
 
 (10) The tithes of the parish of St. Thomas, near the 
 City of Exeter, are received by James Buller, Esq., of 
 Dov/ns, near Crediton ; he receives £5030 yearly, and pays 
 a salary for doing the duty of the parish. — Catholic, {King- 
 ston, Canada West. 
 
 (11) The tithes of the parish of Plymton are the property 
 of John, Earl of Morley, a British Peer, who hires a parson 
 to do the needful, pays him for it and sometimes takes the 
 fokk out of the clergyman's waistcoat by a good dinner 
 and a bottle of wine, at the EarFs seat, at Saltram. — Cath- 
 olic, {Kingston, Canada West.) 
 
 (12) Tho'' numerous instances could be adduced display- 
 ing the injustice of the laws relating to tithes in Ireland, I 
 confine myself to a few cases, showing the exent of the 
 evils resulting from the present tithe system ; it would ap- 
 ■^ear a'' if they had abandoned all hope of amelioration, when 
 the people of England, whose slightest remonstrance is 
 ever attended to by the Government, suflfer such wholesale 
 spoliation without seeking redress. 
 
 (13) The King of Leinster had long conceived a violent 
 affection for Dearborghil, daughter to the King of Meath, 
 and though she had been some time married to O'Rouark, 
 Prince of BrifFni, yet it could not restrain his passion ; they 
 carried on a private correspondence, and she told him that 
 O'Rouark intended to go on a pilgrimage, (an act of piety 
 frequent in those days), and conjured him to embrace that 
 opportunity of conveying her from a husband she detested 
 to a lover she adored. Macmurchad too punctually obeyed 
 the summons, and had the lady conveyed to his capital of 
 Ferns. — The Monarch Roderick, espoused the cause of 
 O'Rouark, while Macmurchad fled to England and obtained 
 the assistance of Henry II. — O'llalloran. 
 
 (14) No spectacle was more frequent in the ditches of 
 the to.vns and especially in wasted countries, than to :ee 
 multitudes of these poor people, the Irish, dead, with their 
 mouths all covered green by eating nettles, docks and all 
 things they could rend above ground. — Morrison. 
 
 
NOTES. 
 
 187 
 
 ■' 
 
 
 (15) During that time any person of English descent 
 mit ht murder a mere Irish man or woman with perfect im- 
 punity, such murder was no more a crime in the eyes of 
 the law than the killing of a rabid or ferocious animal. — 
 O^ConneU's Memoirs ^Ireland. 
 
 (16) There was, indeed, this distinction that if a native 
 Irishman had made legal submission and been received into 
 English allegiance, he could no longer be murdered with 
 impunity, for his murder was punishable by a small pecu- 
 niary fine ; a punishment not for the moral crime of mur- 
 dering a man, but for the social injury of depriving the 
 state of a servant. Just as, at no remote period, the white 
 man in several West India Colonies, was liable to pay a fine 
 for killing a negro, only because an owner was thereby de- 
 prived of a slave. — O'ComielVs Memoirs of Ireland. 
 
 (17) The judges were not so cliary — they were bribed— ay 
 bribed with four shiUings in the pound of the value of all 
 
 1 ands recovered from the subjects by the crown before such 
 judges, and so totally lost to all sense of justice or of shame 
 was the perpetrator of this bribery, Strafford, that he ac- 
 tually boasted that he had thus made the Chief Baron and 
 other Judges attend to the affair as if it was their own pri- 
 vate business. — O^ConnelVs Memoirs of Irelar^d. 
 
 (18) The civil war ensued. Forgetting all the crimes 
 committed against them, the Irish Catholics adhered with 
 desperate tenacity to the party of the King ; the Irish Pro- 
 testants, some sooner and others later, joined the usurping 
 power. — O'ConnelVs Memoirs of Ireland. 
 
 (19) 1 have heard a relation of my own, who was a cap- 
 tain in that service, relate that no manner of compassion or 
 discrimination was showed either to age or sex, but that 
 the little children were promiscuously sufferers with the 
 guilty, and that if any who had some grains of compassion 
 reprehended the soldiers for this unchristian inhumanity, 
 they would seoffingly reply, " Whi/y nits will be lice r anrl 
 so despatch them. — Nalsm, Vol. II (Introduction) p. VII. 
 
 (20) No distinction was made between the defenceless 
 inhabitants and the armed soldiers, nor covld the shrieks and 
 praters of 300 females, who had gathered round the great 
 cross, preserve them from the sword of these ruthless harha- 
 
 By Cromwell himself the number of the slain is re- 
 
 Ttans. 
 
 duced to two, by some writers it has been swelled to five 
 thousand. — Lingarcl, A. D. 1649. 
 
188 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 (21) The assault was given and his (Cromwell's) men 
 twice repulsed ; but in his third attack, Colonel Wall 
 being unhappily killed at the head of his regiment, his men 
 were so dismayed thereby as to listen, before they had any 
 need, to the enemy offering them quarter, admitting them 
 (viz. Cromwell's army) upon those terms, and thereby be- 
 traying themselves and their fellow soldiers to the slaugh- 
 ter. AU the officers and soldiers of Cromwell's army pro- 
 mised quarter to such as would lay down their arms, and 
 performed it as long as the place held out, which encour- 
 aged others to yield, but when they had once all in their 
 power and feared no hurt that could be done them, Crom- 
 well, being told by Jones that he had now all the flower of 
 the Irish army in his hands, gam orders that no quarter 
 should be given, so that his soldiers were forced, many of 
 them against their will, to kill their prisoners. The brave 
 Governor, Sir A. Aston, Sir Edward Verney, the Colonels 
 Warton, Flemming, and Byrne, were killed in cold blood ; 
 and indeed all the officers, except some few of least con- 
 sideration that escaped by chance. — Carte, II, 84. 
 
 (22) The pledge which had been given was noiv violated ; 
 and as soon as resistance ceased a general massacre was 
 ordered or tolerated by Cromwell; during Jive days the 
 streets ofDrogheda ran with blood ; revenge and fanaticism 
 stimulated the passions of the soldiers : from the garrison 
 tliey turned their swords against the inhabitants, and one 
 thousand unresisting victims were immolated together 
 •within the walls of the great church, whither they had fled 
 for protection. — Lingard's England, A. D. 1649. 
 
 (23) I wish that all holiest hearts may give the glory of this 
 to God alone, to whom indeed the praise of this mercy belongs. 
 For instruments they were very inconsiderable to the work 
 throughout. — Extract from Cromwell's letter. 
 
 (24) I do not believe, neither do I hear, that any ofiicer 
 escaped with his life, save only one lieutenant.— i^Jajirace 
 from CromwelVs letter. 
 
 (25) It has pleased God to bless our endeavours at 
 Drogheda. After battering we stormed it ; the enemy were 
 about three 'thousand strong in the town ; I believe loe put 
 to the sword the ivhole number of the defe^idants ; I do not 
 think thirty of the whole number escaped with their lives ; 
 
 I and those 'who did are in safe custody for the Barbadoes. 
 This hathbeen o marvellous great mercy. — Extract from 
 Cromwell's letter to the Speaker of the House of Commons. 
 
 
 / 
 
 ' 
 
NOTES. 
 
 189 
 
 / 
 
 ' 
 
 (26) 1649 — October 2nd — This day the house received 
 despatches from the Lord-Lieutenant, Cromwell, dated, 
 Dublin, September 17th, giving an account of the taking 
 of Drogheda. For this important success of the Parlia- 
 mentary forces in Ireland, the House appointed a thanks- 
 giving day, to be held on the 1st November ensuing, 
 throughout the nation. They likewise ordered that a De- 
 claration should be prepared and sent to the several 
 counties, signifying the ground for setting apart that day 
 of public thanksgiving. A letter of thanks was also voted 
 to be sent to the Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland ; and to be 
 communicated to the officers there; in which notice was to 
 be taken that the House did apprc^e of the execution done at 
 Drogheda, as an act both of jmtice to them and imrcy to 
 others, who may be warned by it. — Parliamentary Hist. Vol, 
 3, p. 1334. 
 
 (27) The Irish made proclamation, on pain of death, 
 that no Scotchman shculd be molested, in chattels, goods, 
 or lands. — C'.'te*s Ormond, 1778. 
 
 (28) County Donegal. About the same time, namely, 
 November, 1641, Captain Fleming and other officers of the 
 said regiment, commanding a party, smothered to death 
 two hundred and twenty women and children in two caves. 
 And about the same time also, Captain Cunningham mur- 
 dered about sixty-three women and children in the Isles of 
 Ross. — O'ConnelVs Memoirs. 
 
 (29) Inchiquin marched into the County of Tipperary, 
 and hearing that many priests and gentry about Cashel 
 had retired with their goods into the church, he stormed 
 it, and being entered, put three thousand of them to the 
 sword, taking the priests even from under the altar. — 
 Ludlow's Memoirs, Vol. 1, p. 106. 
 
 (30) The Governor of Letterkenny gathered together on 
 a Sunday morning, fifty-three poor people, most of them 
 women and children, and caused them to be tlirown off the 
 bridge into the river, and drowned them all. — O^ConnelVs 
 Memoirs of Ireland. 
 
 (31) In November, one Reading murdered the wife and 
 three children of Shane O'Morghy, in a place called Letter- 
 kenny of Ramaltan ; and after her death cut off her breasts 
 with his sword, — O'ConnelVs Memoirs of Ireland. , 
 
 (32) How well these Scots merited so humane and pro- 
 per a determination on the part of the Irish, will be appre- 
 
190 
 
 NOTfiS. 
 
 ciated by those who recolleot that it was the garrison of 
 Carrickfergus (chiefly Scotch) that began the work of 
 massacree, by slaughtering unarmed in their beds three 
 thousand inh^bi'.ants or refugees, in the Island Magee.— 
 O'ConnelVs Memoirs, p. 68. 
 
 (33) Lady Mountrath and Sir Robert Hannah, her 
 father, with many others, being retreated to Belleek for 
 security, were all conveyed safe to Manor Hamilton ; and 
 it is observable, that the said lady and the rest came to 
 Mr. Owen O'Rorke's, who kept a garrison in Drumaheir, 
 for the Irish, before they camo to Manor Hamilton, whose 
 brother was prisoner with Sir Frederick Hamilton; and the 
 said Mr. O'Rorke, having so many persons of quality in 
 his hands, sent to Sir Frederick to enlarge his brother, and 
 that he would convey them all safe to him; but Sir 
 Frederick, instead of enlarging his brother, hanged him up 
 THE NEXT DAY, which might have well provoked the gentle- 
 man to revenge, if he had not more humanity than could 
 well be expected on such an occasion, and in time of so 
 great confusion; yet he sent them all safe where th^y desired! 
 — Collection, p. 97. 
 
 (34) One of the " Articles agreed upon, ordained, and 
 concluded in the General (Catholic) Congregation, held at 
 Kilkenny, May, 1642," is as follows : " We declare the 
 (present) war, openly Catholic, to be lawful and just ; m 
 which war if some of the Catholics be found to proceed 
 out of some particular and un M title, covetousness, 
 cruelty, revenge, or hatred, or any such unlawful private 
 intentions, we declare them therein grievously to sin, and 
 tlicefore worthy to be punished and restrained with eccle- 
 siastical censures, if, advised thereof, they do not amend.'* 
 — Rushwood, V. 516. 
 
 (35) In every part of these transactions, there is some- 
 thing singular and striking. The confederated Catholics 
 were in possession of power from 1643 to 1649. They 
 were in the possession of, and had the management of, 
 nearly, all Ireland, with the exception of Dublin and a few 
 other places. In 1644 they were at the acme of their 
 power Their General Assembly met at Kilkenny, enacted 
 laws, and carried on the Government. This assembly was 
 almost exclusively composed of Catholics; tiie execuuve 
 was exclusively so, yet they were never once accused of 
 having made a single intolerant law, or a single intolerant 
 
 , 
 
 ■' 
 
NOTES. 
 
 191 
 
 or bigoted regulation or ordinance ! They did not perse- 
 cute one single Protestant ; nor are they accused of any 
 such persecution. This is, indeed, a matter of which the 
 Catholics of Ireland may be justly proud. — O'ConneU's 
 Memoirs of Ireland. 
 
 (36) There was a large tract of land, even to the half 
 of the province of Connaught, that was separated from the 
 rest by a long and large river, and wliich, by the plague 
 and many massacres, remained almost desolate. Into this 
 space they required all the Irish to retire by such a day, 
 under the penalti/ of death ; a/nd all who should after that time 
 he fcmnd in any other part of the kingdom, Vian, woman, or 
 child, should be killed by anybody who saw or met them. 
 — Lord Clarendon, 
 
 (37) Cromwell, in order to get free of his enemies, did 
 not scruple to transport forty-thousand Irish from their 
 own country, to fill all the armies in Europe with com- 
 plaints of his cruelty and admiration of their own valor. — 
 Curry s Review, p. 386. 
 
 (38) At the battle of Fontenoy the Irish Brigade came 
 to the attack each man with green leaves fixed in his cap. 
 
 (39) On the defeat of his army at Fontenoy, King 
 George was heard to deplore the effects of those laws that 
 compelled the exile of his bravest subjects. 
 
 (40) That mercy which they sued was rigorously denied 
 them ; Wringfield was commissioned to disarm them ; and 
 when this service was performed, an English company was 
 sent into the f<yrt and the garrison butchered in cold hlood ; nor 
 is it without pain that we find a service so horrible, so de- 
 testable, committed by Sir Walter Raleigh. — O'ConneWs 
 
 Memoirs of Ireland. 
 
 (41) It also appears, that for this and such other exploits, 
 Sir Walter Raleigh had forty-thousand acres of land bes- 
 towed upon him in the County of Cork, which he afterwards 
 sold to Richard, first Earl of Cork. — 0*ConneWs Memoirs 
 of Ireland. 
 
 (42) I will here relate a few of the acts committed by 
 ony^a ■"■? f^ift **nfflo.T!s TTifintioned in the text, und have done 
 with them. It would but horrify the reader were I to enter 
 into a minute detail of the robberies, murders^ and confla- 
 
102 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 grations which were committted by the wretches. Carew*s 
 description of the policy adopted in his own day, might 
 serve for a much later period. ''It was thought no ill policy 
 to make the Irish draw blood upon mie another, wliereby their 
 private quarrels might advance the public service." — Pacata 
 Hiberniaf 650. 
 
 A. D. IGOO.—About the 18th December, Sir Francis 
 Barkley having notice that many rebels were relieved in 
 Clanawioy, marched thither and got a prey of a thousand 
 cows, two hundred garrons, many sheep, and other booty, 
 and had the killing of many traitors, — Coar, 434. The next 
 morning, being the 4th January, 1602, Sir Charles Wilmot 
 coming to seeke the enemy in their campe, hee entered 
 into their quarter without resistance, where hee found no- 
 thing but hurt and sicke men, whose pains and lives by the 
 soldiers were both determined. — Pacata Hibernia, 659. 
 
 Repeated complaints were made of the inhumane rigor 
 practised by Grey (thS Deputy) and his officers. The 
 Queen was assured that he tyrannized with such barbarity 
 that little was left in Ireland for Her Majesty to reign 
 over but ashes and carcases — Lelland; book 4, chap. 2. ° 
 
 Should we exert ourselves, said they, (Elizabeth's 
 Councillors) in reducing this country to order and civility, 
 it must soon acquire po\7er, consequence and riches, the in- 
 habitants will thus be alienated from England : they will 
 cast themselves into the arms of some foreign power, or, 
 perhaps, erect themselves into an independent and separate 
 State— let us raither connive at their disorders : for a weak 
 and disordered people never can attempt to detach them- 
 selves from the crown of England —ZeZdw J, book 4. chap. 3. 
 — They performed that service (the creating of the dis- 
 orders) efiPectually, and brought the rebels to so low a con- 
 dition, that they saio three children eating the entrails of their 
 dead mother, upon whose flesh they had fed many days, and 
 roasted upon a slow fire.— Co^, 449.— After Desmand's 
 death and the entire suppression of his rebellion, unheard of 
 cruelties were committed on the Provincials of Munster 
 (his supposed former adherents) by the English command- 
 ers. Gi-eat companies of these provinnals, men, wom^n and 
 children, were often fi^rced into castles and other houses, 
 which were then set on fire ; and if any of them attemnted 
 to escape from the flames, they were shot or stabbed by the 
 
 " 
 
 i 
 
NOTES. 
 
 193 
 
 u 
 
 monsters of nion to take up infants on the points of their 
 spears, and Avliirl them about in their agony, apoloffisin-*^ 
 or their cruelty by saying that '/ if they suffered thtm tl 
 live to grow up tliey would become papist rebels." Manv 
 oi their women were found lianging on trees, with thefr 
 children at their breasts, strangled with the mothers' hair 
 --^Lombard, Comment, de Hibem,, p, 535 ; Curry, Hist 
 ^meM?,p. 27. (note).— Great were the services these ffar- 
 n^ons performed ; for Sir Richard Pearce and Captain 
 Greorge 1^ lower, with their troopes, Uft neither corne, nor 
 fiorne, m)r house unhumt between Kinsate mid Ross. Captain 
 Koger Harvie who had with him his brother Captain Gowen 
 llarvie, Captain Francis Slingsby, Captain William Stafford, 
 and also the Companies of the Lord Barry and the treasu- 
 rer, With the President's horse, did the Hke between Ross 
 and i->aitiy — -Pacata Hibemia, 645. 
 
 yiS) But this was not ail, the proclamation of Martial 
 La>\, ihf most enormous and the basest corruption, wasre- 
 s.rt-d to. Lord Johr R.issell is reported to have stated 
 3o;,-e t'-cne d<-o, ?,. a public dinner, that the Union was ear- 
 ned at an . xpense of £800,000. He was much mistaken, 
 speaking as he did luerely from a vague recolbction. 
 I he parliamentary documents will show him that one item 
 ot the purchase money of rotten and nomination boroughs, 
 cost no less a sum than one million, two hundred and for- 
 ty-five thousnnd Pounds. The pecuniary corruption 
 amounted altogether to about three millions of pounds 
 sterling.— O'ConnelVs Memoirs of Ireland. 
 
 (44) But before the close of 1792, a new scene was 
 opened. ^ The French armies defeated their enemies at 
 every point. The Netherlands were conquered and a tor- 
 rent of Republicanism driven on by military power, threa- 
 tened every state in Europe. The cannon of the battle of 
 Uemappe were heard at St. James's, the wisdom of concil- 
 liating the Catholics was felt and understood ; and in the 
 latter end of the same year, 1792— in the early part of 
 which the government had rejected the Catholic petition 
 wit 1 contempt— that same government brought in a bill 
 still further to relax the ^- penal code" ; and early in the 
 next year brought in another bill, granting, or, I should 
 rather say restoring, greater privileges to the Catholics— 
 
 () iJonnplls MamnJvo r^^Tf^^l^^J 
 
194 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 (45) By the eftoct of both these bills, the Bar was open- 
 ed to the Catholics, — they might become barristers, but 
 not king's counsel — they could be attorneys and solicitors, 
 they could be freemen of the lay corporations, the grand- 
 jury box and the magistracy were opened to them, they 
 were allowed to attain the rank of Colonel in the army, 
 and still greater than all they were allowed to acquire the 
 elective franchise, and to vote for Members of Parliament. 
 This was the third great instalment of public justice ob- 
 tained by the Catholics of Ireland. — O'ConvtdVs Memoirs 
 of Irdand. 
 
 (46) But it should be recollected that these concessions 
 were made more in fear than in friendship. The revolu- 
 tionary war was about to commence, the flames of Repub- 
 licanism had spread far and near. It was eagerly caught 
 up amongst the Protestant and especially among the Pres- 
 byterian portion of the north of Ireland. Belfast was its 
 warmest focus; it was the deep interest of the British 
 Government to detach the wealth and intelligence of the 
 Catholics of Ireland from the republican party. This 
 policy was adopted. The Catholics were conciliated. The 
 Catholic nobility, gentry, mercantile, and other educated 
 classes, almost to a man, separated from the republican 
 party. That which would otherwise have been a revolu- 
 tion, became only an unsuccessful rebellion. The intelligent 
 and leading Catholics were conciliated and Ireland was once 
 again, by the wise policy of concession and conciliation 
 saved to the British Crown. — O'Connell's Memoirs of 
 Ireland. ^ 
 
 (47) The Liberator was born A. D. 1775, the year of 
 the American Revolution. 
 
 (48) In my mind gardens and fire-works are associated, 
 having beheld those gratifying spectacles, only, in the 
 Rotunda Gardens, Dublin. 
 
 (49) It will be recollected that O'Connell indignantly 
 refused the proffered assistance of the Chartists.