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 ELDRED OF ERIN.
 
 ELDRED OF ERIN, 
 
 A POEM, 
 
 BY 
 
 CHARLES DOYNE SILLERY, 
 
 AUTHOR OF " VALLERY; OR, THE CITADEL OF THE LAKE. 
 
 At lucre or renown let others aim, 
 I only wish to please the gentle mind, 
 Whom Nature's charms inspire, and love of humankind. 
 
 BEATTIE. 
 
 EDINBURGH: 
 
 PRINTED FOR CONSTABLE & CO., WATERLOO PLACE; 
 
 AND HURST, CHANCE & CO., 
 
 LONDON. 
 
 1830.
 
 S2i8e 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 The following Poem consisted originally 
 of a few unconnected stanzas, containing 
 reflections on the works of Nature and the 
 Book of God. I had intended publishing 
 it in this form, under the title of " The 
 Pleasures of Contemplation; " but, consi- 
 dering the multiplicity of books on that 
 subject, and the want of originality in the 
 name, there being Pleasures of Hope — 
 Pleasures of Memory — Pleasures of Ima- 
 gination — Pleasures of Love, and an in- 
 numerable collection of other Pleasures, 
 which, as Burns, expresses it, 
 
 a 
 
 8 '12 <r 5o
 
 VI PREFACE. 
 
 " are like poppies spread, 
 
 You seize the flower, its bloom has shed, " 
 
 I gave up the idea of presenting the Poem 
 to the Public under this form. My next 
 thought was, how the stanzas might be 
 strung together, so as to form a connect- 
 ed story, or train of reflections. It then 
 occurred to me, that, by introducing a real, 
 or fictitious character, who should bear 
 out those reflections, this might easily be 
 accomplished : I accordingly set about 
 this arrangement, and the following little 
 volume was the result. 
 
 " Want of originality, " has been, is 
 now, and ever will be, the hue and cry of 
 the Critics, until an Author acquires a 
 sufficient degree of fame to cover a multi- 
 plicity of poetical sins, and stop the mouths 
 of the riotous Reviewers. — Lord Byron 
 was actually accused of having had Beat-
 
 PREFACE. vil 
 
 tie's Minstrel in view when liefirst thought 
 of his celebrated Chikle Harold ; though 
 it must have been perfectly evident, to all 
 in the least degree competent of judging, 
 that the noble Bard had entirely given 
 himself up to the impulse of his own 
 unshackled, free, and boundless genius. 
 What then will be said of an humble Min- 
 strel, in those intellectual days, who in- 
 troduces an humbler Hero to contemplate 
 and expatiate among the stanzas which 
 are sacred to Spenser, Ariosto, Thomson, 
 Beattie and Byron ? — Am I to be told that 
 I am a copier of Beattie, a follower of 
 Byron, or a feeble imitator of both ? — 
 God forbid ! — I have not the presump- 
 tion, nor the vanity, for a moment to sup- 
 pose, that I will be classed with the for- 
 mer ; and I have no desire, however en- 
 viable it may at first sight appear, to be-
 
 VUl PREFACE. 
 
 come, or to be thought, an imitator of 
 the latter. It must be evident to all, that 
 the Childe and Eldred are perfectly op- 
 posite to each other — the one being a 
 decided Misanthropist, the other an enthu- 
 siastic Philanthropist. My chief object is 
 to blend religion with reflection — piety 
 with pleasure : how far I may have succeed- 
 ed in this, Time, and the candid judgment 
 of an impartial world, will determine. 
 True; I have read the Minstrel again and 
 again — pored over Childe Harold with un- 
 wearied assiduity, and ever with fresh in- 
 tellectual delight. But I had no more 
 the illustrious Bard's Childe Harold in 
 view when writing Eldred of Erin, than 
 he had Beattie's Minstrel when composing 
 that celebrated poem. — I have had nei- 
 ther of these works in my hand for se- 
 veral months : If I had read them inten-
 
 PREFACE. IX 
 
 tionally, it should have been to avoid, if 
 possible, saying what others have said 
 before — not to shackle my own imagin- 
 ation by paltry imitation. Accuse me of 
 any thing but plagiarism — What I have 
 borrowed from the Scriptures will speak 
 for itself; all other resemblances must be 
 attributed solely to coincidence ; for, I 
 am not aware of having taken a single 
 line, from any Author whatever, that I 
 have not marked with inverted commas. 
 
 Like Beattie and others, I have endea- 
 voured to imitate Spenser in the measure 
 of his verse, as also in the harmony, sim- 
 plicity, and variety of his composition ; 
 avoiding however, all antiquated expres- 
 sions, with the exception of two words in 
 Book Second ; the first of which occurs 
 in the tenth stanza, viz. ?ie, signifying ?wr, 
 to prevent the repetition of that word—
 
 X PREFACE. 
 
 and the second, in the following stanza, 
 which, besides being an old English mono- 
 syllable, must be very well understood by 
 every Scotsman ; — and these are the only 
 two instances where I have availed my- 
 self of that poetical license. 
 
 To conclude : The first two books of 
 Eldred are merely experimental — the re- 
 ception of them will determine whether 
 I am to proceed further with the Poem ; 
 or leave our Hero, where we found him, 
 wrapt in his own solitary contemplations, 
 amid the wild sublimities of the Emerald 
 Isle. 
 
 Edinburgh, 1st Feb. 1830.
 
 TO 
 
 THE REVEREND MICHAEL RUSSELL, LL. D. 
 
 Russell, my Friend and Patron ! while I sing 
 In rapturous strains, I dedicate to thee 
 One heartfelt tone — one humble offering ; 
 And howsoe'er unworthy it may be 
 Of all that thou hast kindly done for me, 
 Still, Russell — still, my first of Friends, believe 
 'Tis the heart's offering in sincerity : 
 And, for thy sake, I'd wish the wreath I weave 
 To flourish fresh as flowers dipped in the dews of Eve. 
 
 CHARLES DOYNE SILLERY.
 
 INTRODUCTORY PRAYKK. 
 
 God of my Fathers ! Lord of Heaven and Earth ! 
 
 Centre and Soul of all created things I 
 
 Oh ! how may I lift up my voice to Thee ? 
 
 Oh ! how approach the footstool of my God ? 
 
 Great Fountain of all Goodness and all Love : 
 
 Incessant, incommunicable Love ! 
 
 Unfathomable, endless, endless Love ! 
 
 All present, knowing, seeing, searching eye ! 
 
 Infinity of glory unobscured ! 
 
 Ubiquity of glory undescribed 
 
 By Seraphim and Cherubim in Heaven ! 
 
 Height, depth, length, breadth, immensity of space ! 
 
 All Wisdom, Power, Goodness, Majesty ! 
 
 A
 
 1() INTRODUCTORY PRAYER. 
 
 The First, the Last, the Life, the Light of All ! 
 
 Creating, Uncreated Essence pure 
 
 Of perfect Bliss ! — The Highest, Greatest, Best ! 
 
 Unsearchable, unchangeable, unknown 1 
 
 Exhaustless Fountain of all Being ! — Just, 
 
 Holy, Intelligent, Sublime, Lord God ! 
 
 Eternal Spirit of Eternity, 
 
 Infinity, Creation, Heaven, Time ! 
 
 The Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, in one 
 
 Incomprehensible Jehovah ! — One 
 
 Invisible, Invincible Great God ! 
 
 At once the Future, Present, and long Past ! 
 
 The Light of Angels — Oceans of bless'd Souls ! 
 
 The Sun of Suns ! — the King of Kings ! — the God 
 
 Of Gods ! — the living, everlasting Lord ! 
 
 Immortal, immaterial, unperceived ; 
 
 Yet seen and felt in Earth and boundless Heaven ! 
 
 Prime Source of every thing ! Exhaustless Source ! 
 
 For ever giving ; yet, for ever full ! 
 
 Beyond all height ! above all power of praise ! 
 
 The Maker, Ruler, Life, and Light of All !
 
 INTRODUCTORY PRATER'. II 
 
 Oh ! how may I lift up my voice to Thee P 
 
 Oh ! how approach the footstool of my God, 
 
 But in the dust ? And there I humbly how 
 
 In awe and adoration. Hear my Prayer, 
 
 O ! Thou to whom all flesh shall come. — O ! Thou 
 
 To whom the secrets of all hearts are known. 
 
 Nature ! give ear — Join me, thou Heaven of Heavens, 
 
 Where Seraphim and Cherubim fall down, 
 
 In beatific rapture, 'neath the throne 
 
 Of their Omniscient, Omnipresent Prince ; 
 
 Spreading their wings, to shade them from the glare 
 
 Of Glory too effulgent 1 from the glance 
 
 Of the Almighty unto whom they sweep 
 
 Their diamond lyres with never-ending laud ! 
 
 Join me, thou ever-flaming Lamp of Day ; 
 
 Soul of our system — mirror of thy God. 
 
 Ye wandering worlds that gem the ebon depths 
 
 Of ancient Night — Ye countless suns above, 
 
 Clouding Creation with a dazzling mist 
 
 Of living light : And thou, O ! Mother Earth ! 
 
 With all thy valliea clothed in verdant gold,
 
 12 INTRODUCTORY PRAYER. 
 
 And all thy mountains tow'ring to the skies — 
 
 Ye Woods, winds, waters, lightnings, clouds, and storms, 
 
 " Crown the grand hymn " of " Glory be to God 
 
 In Heaven ; on Earth Goodwill and Peace to Man ! " 
 
 O ! Lord, how manifold are all thy works ! 
 All Heaven, and Earth, and worlds, were made by Thee ! 
 Upheld by Thee ! and govern'd by Thee ! 
 Who wert before Eternity began ! 
 Effect of nothing ! Cause of every thing ! 
 Without beginning ! without end ! — the same 
 For ever, and for ever still the same ! 
 But Oh, my God ! I lose myself in Thee, 
 In Glory, Wisdom, Majesty, and Love ! 
 Come ! then, Thou Heavenly Intercessor, come ! 
 And waft my heart's prayer to the throne of Heaven, 
 My Lord, my Saviour, my Redeemer, come ! 
 In Thee I trust, on Thee alone I call ; 
 Be Thou my Inspiration and my guide : 
 All other aids I scorn, all other Gods, 
 Though blindly honoured by a stumbling world :
 
 I NTRODUCTORY PRAYER. 13 
 
 No fabled Muse, no fancied Nine I seek ; 
 On Thee, alone, the Almighty Three in One ; 
 On Thee, my King and Governor, I call : — 
 Thou who inspired the Minstrel King of old, 
 Whose songs are rapture to the ravished soul, 
 Whate'er my theme, where'er my wanderings lend, 
 Be thou my Inspiration and my Guide ! 
 My Lord, my Saviour, my Redeemer, come ! 
 Thou crucified ! Thou glorified ! Thou Prince 
 Of Peace to all Mankind ! Thou Son of God ! 
 Jesus ! my Saviour — my Redeemer, come ! 
 Hold my right hand, and teach this heart to sing ; 
 That, I may speak of Virtue to mankind — 
 That I may paint example with this pen — 
 That I may praise my Maker with this tongue — 
 Now, and for ever ! whatsoe'er my theme — 
 Praise Him who gives me life, and light, and love ; 
 Who sits enthroned beyond all suns and worlds, 
 Far, far beyond all power and praise of mine !
 
 ELDRED OF ERIN. 
 
 BOOK I.
 
 HLDltHD OF EKIN. 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 i. 
 What time Edina flourished fair and free, 
 With all her Sons of Science and of Song ; 
 When Scott poured forth his " Border Minstrelsy " 
 And deeds of arms, for ages to prolong ; 
 When Wilson sung, amid the glorious throng, 
 Of Ind's " Palm Isles, " and Hogg of " Scotia's Queen : ' 
 There wandered these bright Minstrels bold among 
 An humble Bard, of feeble song, I ween, 
 Who loved right well to walk in lowly modest mien.
 
 18 F.LDRED OF ERIN. 
 
 II. 
 
 How lovely is Humility ! how fair 
 Is Innocence, Simplicity, and Truth ! 
 But ah ! how fleeting, perishing, and rare, 
 Are those celestial promises of youth : 
 The Morning's dawn is brightest aye, in sooth, 
 When golden sunshine tinctures every cloud — 
 Hail, Gentleness ! Humility and Ruth ! — 
 Learn from the humble Jesus, O ! ye Proud, 
 To bow the head, and walk in meekness through the crowd, 
 
 in. 
 Oh ! what hath feeble man to make him vain ? 
 Frail form of dust — poor creature of a day — 
 A fleeting speck upon a paltry grain : 
 A fluttering, fragile insect of weak clay ; 
 Who lives, and loves, and then is swept away ! 
 Like the green grass cut down on yonder plain ; 
 Or, like the shadow which doth make no stay : — 
 His life an hour of sorrow, care, and pain. — 
 Then Oh ! say, what hath man — frail man — to make him 
 vain ?
 
 ELDKF.D OF F.I! IN. l l J 
 
 IV. 
 Though Caledonia's dells to him were dear, 
 She was not — no ; she was not his lov'd land ; 
 His own beloved mounts and valleys were 
 Divided far from Scotia's rock-ribb'd strand 
 By a dark, deep, and fluctuating band 
 Of liquid emerald — by the boundless sea ! 
 " Oh ! Erin ! Erin ! beautiful and bland ! " 
 Oft would he sigh ; " my country ! dear to me 
 " Are all thy hills and dales — eternal peace to thee ! " 
 
 v. 
 Born mid the bloom of Erin, his young heart 
 Throbb'd and expanded with the breath of flowers : 
 His little hands upraised and held apart, 
 His sparkling eyes, like rain in sunny showers ; 
 Proved that he felt the influence of those hours : — 
 A child of rapture even from his birth — 
 Poor boy ! he saw not then the gloom that lowers 
 O'er all the finer- moulded sons of earth, 
 To cloud their brightest days and mar their sweetest mirth.
 
 20 ELDRED OF ERIN. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Like some blown bud lie bloomed, as o'er his brow 
 The holy Father dropp'd the dew of Heaven ; 
 And while the tears clung to its stainless snow — 
 Like rain-drops glittering in the sun at even — 
 His Parent's name with solemn words was given ; 
 " Eldred " — he heard, and through his warm tears smil'd, 
 A3 smiles the sun through dewy crimson driven ; 
 Then sighed — -then wept again — and then, poor child ! 
 Lay like a moonlit lake — pure, beautiful, and mild ! 
 
 VII. 
 
 Years roll'd away — what boots it here to tell 
 Of all his little pleasures, cares, and woes ; 
 The chances and the changes that befell 
 His earlier years ? — Like some wild mountaiu-rose 
 That lifts its pearl-brimmed ruby cup, and blows 
 From out its Paradise of leaves, he grew ; 
 A child of song and love ! and Oh ! God knows, 
 A child of many, many sorrows too ! — 
 His large blue eyes aye beam'd brimful of light and dew-
 
 ELDRED ol ERIN. I 
 
 VIII. 
 
 He hail a Mother — whom he dearly loved. 
 He had a sister — lovely, fair and young ; 
 And oft in bounding innocence they roved 
 Up the green hills, when Morn her mantle flung 
 O'er their gemm'd crags, from which her glory sprung. — 
 No Father kind, no Brother dear had they ; 
 But aye their Parent's name was on their tongue ; 
 They talked of him, full many a sunny day, 
 Who for his country fell, in battle, far away. 
 
 IX. 
 
 And then the girl would weep ; the boy would dry 
 The big round tear-drops from her flushing cheek ; 
 And gather flowers to deck her hair, and try 
 To wean her thoughts from sorrow ; and would speak 
 Words sweet and gentle as the moonbeam's streak 
 On the calm waters of the lake ; and when 
 The sun had ris'n in beauty, they would seek 
 The woody windings of the emerald glen ; 
 Far from the noisy marts and busy haunts of men.
 
 22 ELDRED OF ERIN. 
 
 X. 
 
 But ah ! there came a blight o'er those bright hours : — 
 The noble Sire who gave our hero birth 
 Had perished — Friends fell off, like Autumn flowers 
 Withering and wasting — Round his Father's hearth 
 Fresh flowers grew up in loveliness and mirth : 
 He was neglected — slighted ev'n by those 
 He dearly loved of all the most on earth ! — 
 So have I seen a solitary rose 
 Crushed by the very shrubs among whose buds it blows. 
 
 XI. 
 
 They told him youth was free from wo and care : 
 He listen'd, and smiled ; but had not found it so ; 
 Ah no ! his very childhood had its share 
 Of melancholy pleasure, dashed with wo : — 
 Oft would the warm tears from his lone heart flow, 
 When all around seemed happiness and joy ; 
 And shades o'ercloud his yet unwrinkled brow, 
 Ere his soul's summer sunshine knew alloy : — 
 That " man was made to mourn " he fancied when a boy.
 
 ELURED OE ERIN. ^.'J 
 
 XII. 
 
 But as he grew in years he keenly felt 
 That mortal man, indeed, was made to mourn ; 
 That hearts would freeze e'en while they seemed to melt; 
 That youth's sweet Heaven of Fancy can return 
 No more — no more for ever ! — he did hum, 
 Once, with a pure enthusiasm of soul ; 
 Ah ! little deemed he then ere long to learn, 
 That all — all was deception : But the roll 
 Of years soon taught his heart that melancholy dole. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 As darkness shows ten thousand worlds of light, 
 All buried in the glory of the day ; 
 So, Sorrow's gloom makes Poesy so bright, 
 That there is not a latent beam nor ray, 
 But hath its colours sparkling like the spray 
 Dashed into rainbows. — So it was with thee, 
 Thou glorious Byron — May thy wreath of bay 
 Be ever fresh and fair! — and so't might be, 
 Were I t'uubosom all I've felt and feel, with me.
 
 24 ELDRED OF ERIN. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Yea, were I to unlock my bosom now, 
 And wreak the feelings, on this virgin page, 
 Which crush my heart, and sting my throbbing brow, 
 With pangs all hidden ; I might then engage 
 The ear of Boyhood, and the thought of Age : — 
 But I've the nerve to keep them from the world : 
 Here let them prey in secrecy, and wage 
 Their war of death, all deep and darkly furl'd ; 
 Till they, and I, into one sepulchre are hurl'd. 
 
 xv. 
 'Tis sweet to walk by the deep ocean's roar, 
 When foam and sunshine crisp the emerald billows : 
 'Tis sweet to wander through the forest hoar, 
 Embowered, with singing birds, mid clustering willows : — 
 Sweet 'tis to rove when Autumn's gold-leaf yellows 
 Lawns, cornfields, groves ; all Nature's wide dominions 
 When Flora laughs, and rich Pomona mellows. — 
 But sweeter far than all those earthly minions, 
 To lift the soul to Heaven on Contemplation's pinions.
 
 ELD RED OF ERIN. 23 
 
 xvr. 
 So Eldretl thought ; and glorying in the thought, 
 He rambled, idly, from the haunts of men : — 
 First the cool mount's moss-mantled crags he sought, 
 And traced the blue streams winding to the glen, 
 Through woods and meads, now hid, now seen, — and then 
 He'd wander, musing, down the flower- fr in g'd rills, 
 Till he had gained the deep ravine again, 
 Where all was silence, save the song of bills ; 
 And where he thus communed with his own native hills : 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Sweet Solitude, I love thy calm retreats, 
 Ev'n as a child doth love her mother's smile : 
 The rose-wreathed bowers, the honeysuckle seats, 
 The vales and mountains of my native isle — 
 Yea ; it is sweet, all lonely, to beguile 
 The sunny hours, in solitude, away ; 
 When all around is bloom and bliss the while — 
 Oh ! Nature, bleak, or beautiful, or gay, 
 I've loved thee from a child, and love thee to this day !
 
 26 ELDRED OF ERIN. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Often the garden and the hush of night, 
 The silent mountain and the field, were soughs 
 By our most hlessed Saviour ; when the light 
 Of heaven beamed full upon the sacred spot : 
 There would He pray, and raise his lofty thought 
 
 In intercourse with Heaven Ah Solitude ! 
 
 How signally thou'rt honoured ! does this not 
 Enhance thy value ? Mountain, field, and wood ; 
 God called ye good at first, hut now your doubly good ! 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Thou, too, my Harp ! — my purest joy on earth ! 
 When the cold world weighs heavy on my heart, 
 That ill can brook its melancholy mirth ; 
 Thou my sweet solace — thou my comfort art ; 
 And canst such secret happiness impart, 
 That I forget the cold world's scorn in thee ; 
 Albeit my bosom keenly feels the smart, 
 There is a balm in thy wild melody, 
 Which may be rude to man, but ah ! is sweet to me !
 
 1.1,I)HKI) OF ERrN. 27 
 
 xx. 
 Yes ; I have loved thee better than the world — 
 Such love brings sorrow even in her kiss — 
 The crowd, whose souls in grovelling dust are furl'd, 
 Have blamed me — blamed me, O ! unkind, lor this ; 
 For loving thee, my infant spring of bliss ! 
 My treasured harp ! — Oh ! if mankind but knew 
 What love thou wakest in my soul's abyss 
 For him — for all ; he then might be more true 
 To one whose pulse must throb, and cease to throb, with 
 you ! 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Thus as he spoke with tear-brimmed eyes, he raised 
 " His treasured harp " — the Charmer of his youth ; 
 That harp on which he fervently had praised 
 His dear Redeemer, with a heart, in sooth, 
 All love, all hope, all ecstasy, all ruth ! 
 For aye he loved his Bible and his Lyre ; 
 That blessed book of poesy and truth ; 
 That harp which rilled his soul with heavenly fire — 
 But now in mournful strain he touched each trembling 
 wire.
 
 28 ELDRED OF ERIN. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 " Where are the flowers of the wild-wood ?- 
 
 Faded and withered away ! 
 Where are the friends of my childhood ? — 
 
 Gone to their sleep in the clay ! 
 Ah ! well may the sweet tear of sorrow 
 
 Flow forth from the depths of my heart : 
 I shall meet them no more on the morrow ; 
 
 We lived and we loved, but to part 
 For ever 1 — Oh, Heaven ! — for ever ! 
 The pale moon may silver the fountain ; 
 
 The birds may come back to the lea ; 
 The sun still rise over the mountain ; 
 
 But they shall return to me — 
 Never ! — Oh, never ! 
 
 (Echo.) 
 Oh ! never ! "
 
 l.l.DHKl) OF ERIN. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 2» 
 
 Then opening up the sacred book of God — 
 On which he dropped a soul-engendered tear — 
 He lay him down upon the flower-gemmed sod, 
 To read — to pause — to meditate severe ; 
 With all his heart, and mind, and soul, sincere : — 
 No Bride e'er loved her Lord, no bird her bower, 
 As he adored that Friend of Friends most dear ; 
 And, while he lay spell-bound beneath its power, 
 Thus o'er its pages pure he poured his soul that hour. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 My Bible I thou most blessed, best of books ; 
 How have I loved to pore o'er thee, and be 
 Wrapped in the heaven, which from thy pages looks 
 Through all the glory of sweet Poesy : — 
 Most sacred gem, thou art a world to me, 
 Far dearer than the cold wide world around : 
 Oh ! loveliest volume of all books ! in thee 
 What heavenly hopes and promises abound ! — 
 In thee a balm for all my sorrows have I found.
 
 30 ELDRED OF ERIN. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 In thee what prospects open to my view ! 
 How great ! how grand ! how glorious ! how sublime ! 
 With themes bespangled thicker than the dew 
 That gems the laughing fields at morning's prime : — 
 The reign of Chaos, and the birth of Time — 
 The flowers of Eden, and the fall of man — 
 The fate of Noah — the career of Crime 
 Crushed in the bud, by that stupendous plan 
 Which rapturously I hail ! and thus delight to scan : — 
 
 xxv. 
 Behold yon group of Shepherds by the rocks ! 
 As the blue depth of boundless ether clears : — 
 But, hush ! — was that the bleating of their flocks ? 
 No — no, a light — a dazzling light appears ! 
 And now an Angel bids them calm their fears : — 
 " I bring good tidings of great joy for aye, 
 " To all mankind beneath the glittering spheres ; 
 " For unto you a Saviour's born this day : — 
 " In Bethlehem lies the Babe — his star is o'er the way."
 
 l.l.Dltl.k) OF KIS1N. 31 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Then suddenly a dazzling multitude 
 (Millions on millions from the hless'd abode) 
 Of Angels burst upon their solitude, 
 With crowns, and palms, and white robes, praising God, 
 And singing, loudly, with unceasing laud : — 
 " Glory to God in highest Heaven ! and Peace 
 " To every creature of the living clod ! " 
 Oh ! may the blessed song of joy increase, 
 Till Time shall be no more, and Sin and Sorrow cease ! 
 
 xxvu. 
 Oh ! had you seen the Sun that morning rise, 
 Ashamed of his own glory brightly beaming ; 
 Though beautiful, 'twas darkness in the skies 
 To that pure Sun which o'er the world was streaming : 
 The Son of God ! from whose bright eyes were gleaming 
 The radiations of a Seraph's mind ! 
 And while the world in vanity was dreaming, 
 The Monarchs warring, and the nations blind ; 
 The day-spring of Redemption dawned to all mankind !
 
 32 KLDKED OF ERIN, 
 
 XXVIII. -% 
 
 Lo in the virgin's breast the infant lies ! 
 With out- stretched arras, beneath the sunbeams' blaze ; 
 Celestial sweetness smiling from his eyes, 
 Mocking the radiant coronet of rays 
 Which round his brow in sparkling lustre plays. — 
 Beautiful Infant ! — Prince of Peace ! — how mild ! 
 How pensively ! is fixed thy Mother's gaze 
 On thee, her humble, holy, heavenly Child ; 
 Through whom shall sinful man and God be reconcil'd ! 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 Oh ! I have dearly loved to meditate 
 Upon my Saviour's sufferings for mankind : 
 His woes, his tears, his torments, and his fate ; 
 The unknown anguish of his heavenly mind : — 
 To trace him falsely censured by a blind 
 And ign'rant multitude that crowd around, 
 And scorn, insult, betray, condemn, and bind 
 The Lamb of God, who treads terrestrial ground 
 To die for sinful man ! in Heaven such love is found !
 
 K1.DKK1) OF Kit IN. 39 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Now on the Cross the blessed Jesus bows- 
 Merciful Father ! 'tis Thy dying Son ! 
 (Yet do I gaze upon thy drooping brows 
 Bleeding and bound with thorns, thou blessed One !) 
 Down his pale, wasted cheeks, the big tears run, 
 And " Oh ! my God ! my God in Heaven 1 " he cries, 
 " Why hast Thou thus forsaken me ? " — 'tis done ; 
 The damps of death have sealed those sacred eyes, 
 And from her clay-cold form the heavenly spirit flies ! 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 Hark ! heard ye not that crash ? My God ! my God ! 
 The Temple's rent from battlement to base ! 
 Earth quakes, graves yawn, the city's turrets nod, 
 And the riv'n rocks roll crumbling from their place ! 
 All now is dark, save the Redeemer's face 
 Beaming in death ! — Ye Cherubim, on high, 
 Shout ye, " Redemption ! — Pardon ! — Glory ! — Grace ! 
 " To all mankind beneath the spacious 6ky ! 
 " O Death ! where now's thy sting ? — Grave ! where thy 
 victory ? "
 
 34 ELDRED OF ERIN. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 Lift up your heads, ye gates ; — lift up your heads, 
 Ye everlasting doors ; and the great King 
 Of Glory shall come in — Who is it treads 
 As King of Glory? — Saints and Seraphs hring 
 
 Your hymns ; " The Lord in battle mighty ! " sing. 
 
 Lift up your heads, ye gates ; yea, widely soar, ye, 
 Ye everlasting doors ; and the great King 
 Of glory shall come in— What King adore ye ? 
 " The Lord ! the Lord of Hosts, He is the King of Glory ! 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 Here Eldred paused — and laid the book aside, 
 In meditation wrapp'd — All heaven and earth 
 Became more beautiful ! — the green world, wide, 
 Lay at his feet in loveliness and mirth ! 
 The bright, blue, boundless concave, with its girth 
 Of long, light, sunny clouds, into his soul 
 Poured ecstacy, so like a second birth 
 Of being, bliss and beauty ; that his whole 
 Existence seemed a trance of rapturous control !
 
 ELD RED OF ERIN. 35 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 At Thy Omnipotence — said he — O ! Lord ! 
 I tremhle ; Oh Jehovah ! I revere 
 Thy Wisdom ; and Thy Goodness have adored, 
 With all my heart, and strength, arid soul sincere — 
 I worship Thee in tremhling and in fear, 
 Eternal Father ! Fountain ! Maker ! God ! 
 Who sitt'st enthroned in Heaven, and yet art here ! 
 Who dwell'st where Angels chant with endless laud, 
 Yet art beside the worm that glitters on the sod ! 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 Yea, whither from Thy presence shall I flee ? — 
 If I ascend to Heaven, Thou art there ; — 
 If at the utmost boundaries of the sea ; 
 Behold ! Thou watch'st with unremitting care : 
 If, through the blank unfathomable air, 
 I wing my fancy to the depths of Hell ; 
 Ev'n there Thou art to hear Thy suppliant's prayer : — 
 Further than thought can soar, or numbers tell, 
 Thou sitt'st alone, sublime, where hymns of glory swell !
 
 3(> ELDRED OF ERIN. 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 Fountain of All ! — Power ! — Wisdom ! — Goodness ! — 
 
 Bliss !— 
 Eternity ! — Infinity ! — and Light ! 
 Above the Heaven of Heavens ! — below the abyss 
 Of deep Immensity ! — all depth ! all height ! 
 All length ! all breadth ! all present, from the bright 
 Centre of Heaven, to the remotest world 
 That wheels its golden circle in Thy sight ; 
 Tuning Thy praise, Lord God ! as it is hurl'd 
 Through boundless realms of space, where Glory glows 
 unfurl'd ! 
 
 xxxvxr. 
 Fountain of All ! — my Help ! my Hope ! my Heart ! 
 My Crown! my Strength ! my Life! my Light! my All ! 
 My Governor ! my Father, too, which art 
 In Heaven ! — O Lord ! upon my knees I fall, 
 And, unto Thee, in Adoration call : — 
 Hear — hear my prayer, while in the dust I bow — ■ 
 No clay my soaring spirit can inthrall, 
 Which freely wings its way to Thee, Oh ! Thou 
 To whom all flesh shall come, in hope, as I do now.
 
 KLURKD OF I. KIN. M 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 My God ! is there an hour so sweet as this ? 
 The holy — tranquil — peaceful hour of prayer ; 
 When all my soul seems melting with its hlis9, 
 And all my heart is fixed on Heaven — Ev'n there, 
 Oh ! wilt Thou hend on Earth a listening ear, 
 Almighty Maker ? — Thou who wert before 
 Creation glittered o'er the etherial sphere, 
 Boundless in love ! — To Thee whom I adore, 
 Thus — thus in tears of joy, my o'erllowing heart I 
 
 pour ! 
 
 xxxi x. 
 I love to See the sun in glory rise, 
 When heaven's all bright and beautiful and blue 
 I love to see the pale Moon walk the skies, 
 When all the lamps of night are shining through 
 I love the laughing landscape's verdant view : 
 The song of birds ; the rush of streams and air : 
 And Womankind ! I dearly love thee too : — 
 But sweeter far than thou, than all that's fair, 
 To stand apart and gaze on Innocence at prayer !
 
 38 ELDHED OF ERIN. 
 
 XL. 
 
 At prayer ! — Oh God ! how lovely ! how divine ! 
 How exquisitely beautiful ! how sweet ! 
 To see the Sun on kneeling Childhood shine ; 
 When Mercy, Love, and heavenly Goodness meet, 
 And kiss each other — every pulse doth beat, 
 With rapturous admiration at the sight : — 
 Tears gush to mark all prostrate at my feet, 
 Childhood ! and Innocence ! and Love ! and Light ! 
 At prayer ! my God ! — my God, how beautiful ! how 
 bright ! 
 
 XL I. 
 
 Soon as the gush of feeling passed away, 
 And his blue eyes had shower'd their soul's pure rain ! 
 The young enthusiast on the green sward lay, 
 And on his Bible fixed those eyes again, 
 As o'er the sacred pages turning, fain 
 To find some gold for his enraptured mood ; 
 Nor needed he long search with weary pain, 
 For all that book is beautiful and good : — 
 See ! — see his transport now ! — Give ear, thou Solitude !
 
 ELDRED OF ERIN. 3!) 
 
 XLII. 
 
 t 
 
 Another morn liath burst upon mid-day 
 Creation glows with Glory — Oh ! how bright ! 
 Behold ! a mighty Angel, on the way 
 From Heaven to earth, clothed in a cloud of light : — 
 His face the brilliant sun all dazzling white — 
 One foot of fire he stamped upon the shore ; 
 Then on the Ocean fixed his flaming right, 
 And, with uplifted arm t' wards Heaven, he swore 
 By Him who lives for aye, that " Time should be no more!" 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 He comes! He comes! GreatGod! He comes! He comes! 
 All Heaven — all Earth — Creation is on fire ! 
 He comes in clouds and glory ! yea, He comes 
 With all His radiant Archangelic quire, 
 Who awed, with outspread pinions, fixed, admire 
 The fervent glory of this fatal day — 
 Fain would the guilty wretches now retire 
 Back to the tombs whence sprung their shivering clay. — 
 The stars are bathed in blood ! — the Heavens have passed 
 away !
 
 40 ELDRED OF ERIN. 
 
 XL IV. 
 
 How art thou fallen, O ! Lucifer, from Heaven ! 
 How art thou fallen, O ! bright Son of the Morning ! 
 And ye, His Angels ; ev'n to you was given 
 The Book of Life, while ye were vainly scorning 
 All law, all precept, all command, all warning ; 
 And hurrying to damnation, from this world ; 
 What now boots wealth, health, genius? — life adorning — 
 Oh ! there's a cloud twixt ye and Heaven unfurl'd : — 
 Down, to perdition down, ten thousand souls are hurl'd ! 
 
 XLV. 
 
 See ! yon profound interminable gulf, 
 Boiling with billows of sulphureous fire ; 
 A sea of flames, without or shore or shelf; 
 Flashing and foaming into flake and spire ; 
 O'erwhelming groaning millions, who respire 
 In burning agony, with eye-balls burst : — 
 And hark ! rebounding from the black domes higher, 
 Their execrations — " Lord ! we thirst ! — we thirst ! " 
 These are the fallen — the lost— the wretched— the accurs'd !
 
 ELDRED OF ERIN. 1 I 
 
 XL VI. 
 
 Oh ! lovely change, to light ! I now behold 
 A dazzling City, like a jasper-stone, 
 Whose crystal streets are paved with flaming gold, 
 And whose twelve gates are formed of pearls alone ; 
 Crowned with a radiant rainbow's broken zone ; 
 Garnished the walls with many a gorgeous gem ; 
 Lit by the Lamb — who sits upon its throne — 
 Around whose brows burns Heaven's bright diadem. — 
 Oh joy ! it is — it is the New Jerusalem ! 4 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 Encircling yonder great and snow-white throne, 
 Ten thousand times ten thousand Angels stray ; 
 There dwells in clouds th' Omnipotent — that One 
 From whose bright glance the Heavens have fled away ! 
 Before Him, Lo ! what infinite array ! 
 All Nations — Kindred — People — Tongues do stand, 
 Robed in the glory of eternal day, 
 Pure as their souls — with palms in every hand : — 
 A multitude of Gods, countless as Ocean's sand ! 
 
 c
 
 42 I I.DRED OF ERIN. 
 
 XL VIII. 
 
 And bark ! the voice of thunders, and the roar 
 Of many waters, mingling with the lyres : — 
 Heaven's vault re-echoes, and the golden shore 
 Of Paradise, where throng the hymning quires, 
 Shines as there flamed ten thousand crystal fires — 
 Angels, Archangels, Thrones, Powers, Seraphim, 
 Cast down their crowns, and sweep the flaming wires 
 Before the Blaze which lights the Cherubim ; 
 And thus with rapturous bliss pour forth their heavenly 
 hymn : — 
 
 XL1X. 
 
 " Worthy art Thou, O Lord God ! to receive 
 " All glory, honour, wisdom, blessing, power : 
 " Redeemed by Thee, all tongues and nations live, 
 " To worship, serve, and praise Thee from this hour, 
 " Saviour ! for ever and for evermore ! — 
 " Worthy the Lamb of Heaven that was slain ; 
 " Who washed our sins away with his own gore. — ■ 
 " The One Great God Omnipotent doth reign : — 
 " Lord ! Hallelujah ! Lord !— Amen I Amen ! Amen !
 
 ELDRED ()F ERIK. U 
 
 I.. 
 Farewell, delightful theme ! 'twould break my heart 
 Longer to dwell on that celestial strain : — 
 My soul expands within me, as 'twould start 
 From the red lab'rinths of each throbbing vein : — 
 All I have sung is nothing : — there remain 
 Ten thousand times ten thousand lovely lays : 
 Let Angels warble every glorious train 
 Of thought that through their golden spirits strays : — 
 Too blessed for me the theme — too high for me the praise. 
 
 LI. 
 
 So deemed the Solitary, as the shades 
 Of Evening stole along the mountains blue ; 
 And all the laughing flowers and bright green blades, 
 Of every fairy-form, of every hue, 
 Closed their pure buds, and dreamt in diamond dew :— 
 Slowly, and lone, he bent his homeward way, 
 Round yon dark mountain, wildly towering through 
 The billowy fogs belting its bosom gray ; 
 And as he disappeared, mild Echo heard him say,
 
 44 ELDRED OF ERIN, 
 
 LII. 
 
 I love the night ! the deep and dark blue night ! 
 When countless worlds are sprinkled o'er the Bkies - r 
 When lovely Luna sits enthroned in light, 
 And heaven looks on me with ten thousand eyes : 
 To hear the waters murmuring, and the sighs 
 Of love-lorn Zephyrus wandering through the woods : 
 To walk surrounded by a Paradise 
 Of glory, issuing in prismatic floods 
 From all the etherial heavens, to all earth's solitudes ! 
 
 LIU. 
 
 Peace to the Bard ! he slumbers with the world 
 All silently — the curtains of the west 
 Their gorgeous folds of pink and gold have furl'd : 
 The Babe, forgetful of her tears, doth rest ; 
 Rocked, by the beating of her mother's breast, 
 Into Oblivion's Paradise. — On high 
 The pale-worn Moon displays her burnished crest, 
 Wandering in silence through the starry Bky ; 
 While, wan with shadowy light, the slumbering vallies lie.
 
 ELDRED or ERIN. K5 
 
 LIV. 
 
 Here have I paused, and pondered deeply ; till 
 I had forgot'n the world, and all its jars ; 
 And my soul — like the music of the rill, 
 That sweetly rises from the mountain spars — 
 Soared, and was lost amid the maze of stars ! 
 That labyrinth of Philosophy above — 
 But bounds are set, beyond whose adamant bars 
 No mortal thought hath ris'n, nor e'er shall rove, 
 Till freed from darkling dust it springs through light and 
 love ! 
 
 LV. 
 
 To pause — to ponder — to be wrapt and lost 
 In thought intense ; in meditation deep. — 
 This none can rob me of — 'tis mine ; and most 
 In the still midnight, when the heavens do sweep 
 O'er the hush'd nations, bless'd with balmy sleep : 
 Then the wide soul expands within her cell, 
 (Writhing and rising till the heart doth leap, 
 And the brow burns ;) — like some huge swinging bell, 
 Vibrating, mid the clouds, between high Heaven and Hell.
 
 46 ELD RED OF ERIN. 
 
 LV1. 
 
 Man doth not know, nor can I tell mankind, 
 The tides of thrilling rapture that now roll, 
 Ev'n like a boundless ocean, through my mind ; 
 As if Heaven's Inspiration fired my soul — 
 The soul ! my God, how infinite ! the whole 
 Of those bright orbs my dazzled eyes behold : — 
 Yon moon, yon stars thick sown from pole to pole : 
 Globes above globes, are through its regions roll'd ; 
 And still there's room for worlds which numbers never told ! 
 
 LVII. 
 
 Room too for thought ! — There Poesy, divine, 
 Hath an unutterable Heaven of bliss ; 
 Imagination, her rich golden mine, 
 And meditation, her sublime abyss 
 Of boundless beauty, light and loveliness ! 
 Then let me meditate ! while all around 
 Is slumber — 'Tis in such a night as this 
 That I love most to ponder, and to sound 
 The ocean of my soul, unfathomably profound.
 
 ELDRED OS ERIN, IV 
 
 J. VIII. 
 
 Tell me, ye midnight voices, where are they ; 
 They who began life's pilgrimage with me ? 
 Some toil in foreign lands far far away, 
 Beyond the billows of the boundless sea : 
 Others, alas ! are in Eternity ! 
 But all are severed — long forgotten — fled 
 Like wintry leaves wind-scattered o'er the lea — 
 Time walked between with swift and silent tread, 
 Making alike unknown the living and the dead. 
 
 LIX. 
 
 And yet mid them there smiled my earliest friends, 
 The sharers of my innocence and joy : — 
 Ah ! how the rush of years to manhood, tends 
 Our purer, perfect pleasures to destroy ! 
 Who would not wish again to be a boy ? 
 To tread the fields with light and bounding heart ; 
 When no rough blasts, no hardships could annoy : 
 Our home our Heaven — simplicity our art ; 
 When every various scene new rapture could impart.
 
 48 ELDRED OF ERIN. 
 
 LX. 
 
 Ah me ! and those bright sunny days are gone ; 
 Their very memory warms my weary soul : 
 Yet can they charm, though Age apace comes on, 
 To cut " the thread, " and " break the golden bowl. " 
 Yes, years must change, and fleeting seasons roll ; 
 And I fall off, as I had never been ; 
 Hurried along to lingering life's last goal : 
 Yet shall I ne'er forget those days serene, 
 The lovely long lost hours mine infancy hath seen. 
 
 LXI. 
 
 Lone be the place of my eternal rest ; 
 May no vain marble mock my mouldering clay ; 
 No " storied urn " weigh heavy on my breast ; 
 To lure the passing pilgrim from his way, 
 Or tell aught of the being fled for aye : — 
 But when soft twilight steals o'er purpled skies, 
 May some lone warbler lull me with her lay ; 
 And while the pale flowers o'er my ashes rise, 
 May winds and waters mix in melody and sighs.
 
 I 1. 1) It 1.1) OF ERIN. I'-* 
 
 k LXII. 
 
 Oil ! I do hate their vanity and pride ; 
 I'm sick of all man's ostentatious show : 
 Will not his empty pomp he thrown aside, 
 When life hath ceased to burn — life's blood to flow ? 
 When the frail form is laid for ever low, 
 Will man yet bear his folly to the grave ? 
 I would not have your chiselled scrolls — Oh, no ! 
 O'er me alone let silent willows wave ; 
 And take — my God in Heaven ! take back the soul you 
 gave. 
 
 LXIII. 
 
 How sweet is death ! no sorrow clouds the tomb : — 
 How still is death ! no voice breaks on his rest : — 
 How calm is death ! no troubles there can come : — 
 How fair is death ! the sunshine of the bless'd : — 
 Peace to the dead whose souls are on the breast 
 
 Of their Redeemer O ! 'tis sweet to die 
 
 When Jesus calls, with wearied hearts oppress'd, 
 The rough race run, serenely down to lie, 
 And feel the ebbing soul expand into the sky !
 
 00 ELDIIED OF EH IN. 
 
 LXIV. 
 
 Say, what is Death ? — The blessed friend of man ; 
 His apotheosis ; his final goal : 
 The termination of a paltry span ; 
 The crown of life while endless ages roll — 
 Death but entombs the body, life the soul : 
 Death is the porch to Immortality ; 
 There he hath no dominion, no control — 
 Man is a living sepulchre, till He 
 Destroys this house of clay, and sets the spirit free. 
 
 LXV. 
 
 Death is the first of life : this vision's close : — 
 Death is the sword that severs earthly ties : — 
 Death is the end of all our cares and woes : — 
 Death is the day-star — though in clouds he rise — 
 Which guides the weary wanderer to the skies : 
 The Christian's friend, that shakes the lifeless clod 
 From the freed soul, which disembodied flies 
 To prostrate at the footstool of her God, 
 And join the Saints, above, in never-ending laud.
 
 ELDRED OF ERIN. 51 
 
 LXVI. 
 
 With death the woes of this world can he home ; 
 Without death life were endless misery : 
 With death there's " hope of an Eternal Morn;" 
 Without death, Oh ! most wretched man would he : 
 To live a long life — an Eternity 
 Of trouhle, sin, and sorrow —Death it is 
 That hreaks the bars which span this mortal sea, 
 Fettering the soul down in a dark ahyss — 
 If death makes man a God, what then is death but Bliss ! 
 
 LXVII. 
 
 Hark ! that last knell ! — the lingering year is gone ! 
 Eternity hath swallowed up the past — 
 And now another wave comes rolling on 
 In quick succession, foamingly and fast ; 
 Driving into Oblivion's gulf the last ; 
 Like Ocean billows bounding as they roar, 
 Tempestuously — unfathomable — vast — 
 Till lost in thunder on the trembling shore ; 
 So year drives onward year — the past returns no more.
 
 52 ELDRED OF ERIN. 
 
 LXVIII. 
 
 Full many a face where Beauty weaves her spells, 
 This year shall wither in its brightest bloom ; 
 Full many a breast where heavenly goodness dwells, 
 Fall — unregarded fall into the tomb : — 
 Eyes which the light of love and youth illume, 
 Ere this short year hath rolled its tide away, 
 Shall sleep for ever in the grave's deep gloom ; 
 Their pure hearts mingling with the damp cold clay — . 
 Ah ! little reck they now of that approaching day. 
 
 LXIX. 
 
 Is this a time for revelry and mirth ? 
 Is this an hour for banquet, dance and song'? 
 When Time is sweeping all the souls of earth — 
 The high, the low, the young, the weak, the strong ; 
 A reckless giddy multitude along — 
 Into the gulf of dread Eternity : 
 Oh I it is folly — impiously wrong 
 To take no heed of moments as they flee ; 
 Of precious passing years that ne'er redeemed can be.
 
 ELDRED OF ERIN. 53 
 
 LXX. 
 
 Pause, then, with me, and ponder— Oh ! it cheers 
 The heavy heart far more than wine or mirth 
 Freely to ope the fountain of its tears, 
 And for a season wing its thoughts from earth ; 
 This gives the freshened soul a second birth, 
 And then the year in bliss comes smiling on : 
 Such contemplations worlds of wealth are worth — 
 The Christian thus, who hopes in Heaven, alone 
 Can with sweet comfort say, " Another year is gone ! r ' 
 
 END OF BOOK FIRST,
 
 ELDRED OF ERIN, 
 
 BOOK II.
 
 TO 
 
 THE REV. ALEXANDER HILL GRAY, 
 
 THIS BOOK OF 
 
 ELDRED OF ERIN, 
 
 IS FAITHFULLY INSCRIBED, 
 
 AS A 
 
 TOKEN OF SINCERE FRIENDSHIP, 
 
 AND IN ADMIRATION OF HIS TALENTS, 
 
 BY 
 
 HIS AFFECTIONATE COUSIN, AND 
 
 ATTACHED FRIEND, 
 
 THE AUTHOR.
 
 ELDRED OF ERIN. 
 
 BOOK II. 
 
 i. 
 
 Come, Heavenly Contemplation ! from thy zone 
 Of dazzling glory, mid the gold-wrought skies : — 
 Come, bright-hrowed Spirit, from thy radiant throne, 
 Where the warm Day in gorgeous purple dies : 
 Clear the dark mists which dim those feeble eyes, 
 And lift my soul above this mortal coil ; 
 On sacred pinions teach my thoughts to rise, 
 Up — up where amaranths robe the radiant soil : — 
 That Joy may crown my hopes, and Heaven reward my toil.
 
 GO ELDRED OF ERIN. 
 
 II. 
 
 Vouchsafe, O ! thou Eternal God of might, 
 From whom all goodness, love, and wisdom flow, 
 To shed into my soul some heavenly light, 
 That to mankind its sunshine I. may show ; 
 And, while I tread this vale of tears and wo, 
 Teach me to praise and glorify thy name ; 
 That when I'm sleeping in the dust below, 
 My humble song may flourish still the same : — 
 I wish no greener wreath — I ask no greater fame. 
 
 m. 
 No ; let me be forgotten — I would not live 
 On man's vain breath, as fickle as the wind ; 
 The crowns of bay and laurel mortals give, 
 With poisonous buds and thorns are oft entwin'd : — 
 Give me sweet peace — tranquillity of mind, 
 And all earth's pageants I with joy forego : 
 O ! grant, my heavenly Father, I may find 
 A crown of glory to enwreath this brow : — 
 Fame's for the wise, in Heaven ; fame's for the fool below.
 
 I.LDREU OF BftifT. <H 
 
 IV. 
 
 Tis morn — the Sabbath morn ! — a summer sun 
 Beams o'er the placid mountain, most sublime ! 
 This day, like mine, his course is but begun ; 
 Measuring the fleeting moments of marr'd Time, 
 He wanders on, serene, from clime to clime : 
 Ah ! would that he could waft the Sabbath-day 
 To those Barbaric lands of wo and crime ; 
 So far from Heavenly light and love away — 
 O ! Bethlehem, where's thy Star to shed its powerful ray ? 
 
 v. 
 Break forth ! break forth, ye mountains, into singing ! 
 Shout, O ! ye Heavens ! — be joyful, O ! thou Earth ! 
 For yet to thee great glory shall be springing ; 
 Yea, from on high the Day-spring have its birth ; 
 The forests clap their hands in awful mirth ; 
 And all be rising rapture, love, and light ; 
 From the cold Poles to the Equator's girth : 
 Glad tidings yet shall wake the sleep of night, 
 Religion reign supreme, and all the world be bright !
 
 62 ELDRKD OF ERIN. 
 
 vr. 
 Oh ! glorious vision ! — O ! ecstatic sight ! 
 Break forth ! break forth, ye mountains, into singing ! 
 For Death and Darkness shall be put to flight, 
 And hymns and praises down each vale be ringing ; 
 The dawn of Heaven o'er all the wide world springing ; 
 Mankind be brothers, lovingly again, 
 And morning stars, in laughing ether swinging, 
 Shall shout for joy, to view each blessed plain, 
 Where love and friendship dwell ; where Peace and Good- 
 ness reign ! 
 
 VII. 
 
 It is the Sabbath morn — that day of rest, 
 When all the world is tinged with deeper dies ; 
 When Nature seems in fairer garments dress'd, 
 And Phoebus rolls, sublime, through smiling skies : — 
 It is the morn, when to the Christian's eyes, 
 All heaven and earth are filled with passionate love ; 
 When the heart sings, the expanding soul doth rise 
 On wings of holy transport, far above 
 All the vain dreams of life, in realms of bliss bo rove !
 
 ELORSD OS ERIN. «i3 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Hark ! the sweet church-bells pealing from yon spire 
 That towers majestic o'er the old oak trees ; 
 Pointing to heaven with crosslet of pale fire — 
 Like flaming cresset o'er th' inconstant seas — 
 Hark ! how the deep tones float along the breeze ! 
 Mingling harmonious with the blaze of day. — 
 Green fields — fresh flowers — the song of birds and bees, 
 Feed every sense, and all the soul is gay, 
 As Heaven had filled the heart, and banished gloom away ! 
 
 IX. 
 
 Now what a prospect to our view is given ! 
 Lo ! by the margin of the wooded plain ; 
 Along the winding way that leads to Heaven ; 
 The simple village maid, the artless swain, 
 The blooming children, and the aged twain 
 With silvered locks, bowed heads, and humble mien : 
 All moving onward to yon sacred fane 
 That crowns, with snowy spire, the hillock green : — 
 Oh ! tis a gladdening sight ! — A lovely — heavenly scene !
 
 64 ELDRED OF ERIN. 
 
 X. 
 
 Scarce doth the soul-enchanting voice of praise 
 Shake the old pile, with choral harmony ; 
 When Eldred, musing, down the mountain strays — 
 For aye a solitary soul was he, 
 And ever loved in loneliness to be : 
 Ne cared he aught for what the world would say ; 
 Nor Cynic's scorn, nor envious obloquy : 
 But wandered on his solitary way — 
 To commune with his God amid the fields that day. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Oh ! it is hard t' unbosom our own feelings ; 
 But doubly hard to tell what others feel ; 
 When the heart drinks th' enraptured soul's revealings, 
 And tears, all burning, o'er the pale cheeks steal. — 
 Start not, stern stranger ! — Eldred loved right weel 
 To bow the knee in honest guise to God, 
 In God's own house — but I to thee appeal ; 
 If better 'twere to take the lonely road, 
 Or rise with outward show to join the studied laud !
 
 ELDRED OF Kit IN. 68 
 
 XII. 
 
 Young Eldred felt — so exquisitely felt 
 The solemn impress of the Sabbath day ; 
 That all his soul in gushing tears would melt, 
 As melts the evening mist in dews away ; 
 Nor could he e'er conceal Faith's powerful sway 
 From all the eyes that oft were turned on him : 
 And so he loved in solitude to pray, 
 Where the green oaks, with many a branching limb, 
 Obscured him from the world, in shady covert dim. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 There, while he knelt in intercourse with Heaven ; 
 He paused and listened to the voice of praise, 
 Which down the vale in pealing notes was driven ; 
 Blent with the song of birds, the perfumed maze 
 Of flowers all sweetness, and the sun's bright blaze ; 
 Whose broken beams along the lake would glance : — 
 Mute — motionless, on heaven he fixed his gaze, 
 And heard, all wrapped in most enchanting trance, 
 Th' assembled, thus, then great Creator's praise advance : —
 
 66 ELDRED OF ERIN. 
 
 HYMN. 
 
 " Praise ye the Lord I — praise ye the Lord ! 
 Your joyful voices raise : — 
 All heaven and earth, with one accord, 
 Th' Almighty Maker praise. 
 
 " He bade the world from chaos rise ; 
 
 Through space this globe was driven : 
 He dawned upon th' etherial Bkies, 
 And worlds revolved in heaven I 
 
 " Praise ye the Lord ! — praise ye the Lord ! 
 With timbrel, harp and song ; 
 Ye worlds, who heard his forming word, 
 The solemn hymn prolong.
 
 LLDRLD OF ERIN. 67 
 
 He said " Let there be light, " and light 
 Rushed down upon the waters ! 
 
 On man He stamped His image bright ; 
 On Eve and all her daughters. 
 
 " Praise ye the Lord ! — praise ye the Lord ! 
 Ye floods and nations roar ; 
 The Great Creator, the Ador'd ; 
 Praise Him for evermore ! 
 
 " Praise Him, ye Angels of the sky ! 
 
 Praise Him, ye wood-crowned mountains ! 
 Praise Him, ye Heaven of Heavens on high ! 
 Praise Him, ye groves and fountains !
 
 68 ELDRED OF ERIN. 
 
 " Praise ye the Lord ! — praise ye the Lord ! 
 Your joyful voices raise ; 
 Let heartfelt rapture forth be pour'd 
 In one grand hymn of praise ! 
 
 " Praise Him, ye hail, and fire, and snow ! 
 Praise Him, ye sons of glory ! 
 Praise Him, ye Princely Powers below ! 
 In song, and dance, and story ! 
 
 " Praise ye the Lord ! — praise ye the Lord ! 
 Whose goodness fadeth never : 
 With one accord, Oh ! praise the Lord 
 For ever, and for ever ! "
 
 ELDBED OF ERIK. <••• 
 
 xiv. 
 I will not dwell on Eldred's musings here : — 
 His prayers, his meditations, and his thoughts, 
 God knows, were aye soul-soothing and sincere, 
 Though breathed unseen mid solitary spots, 
 Where the green willows waved o'er crystal grots : — 
 Few feel the influence of such rapturous hours : 
 Man breathes, and lives, and loves, and dies, and rots ; 
 Like weeds on ocean tossed ; like wild field-flowers : 
 Pleasure his paltry aim, till blighted mid her bowers. 
 
 xv. 
 
 Kings govern kingdoms — be it mine alone 
 To rule the empire of myself ; therein 
 To hold my sceptre ; and to fix my throne 
 O'er my immortal sacred soul : — begin 
 To vanquish will, and quell the power of sin : — 
 Then shall I be an Emperor, and bring 
 A world of warriors to mine aid within ; 
 This is dominion — this is governing ! 
 If the soul be a wreck, where is the mighty King ?
 
 TO ELDKF.D OF ERIN. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Oh Solitude ! I love thee, for thou art 
 The mart of meditation, and the nurse 
 Which weans the musing melancholy heart 
 From earth to heaven — to hate thee were a curse 
 Than hatred of my brother man far worse ; 
 For God's in thee, and thou dost teach mankind — 
 With Nature's music, and with Nature's verse — 
 That he is frail, and ignorant, and blind ; 
 That God alone is good, and merciful, and kind. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 When silence slept upon the moonlit sea, 
 And Nature's breath and Ocean's pulse stood still : 
 When our lone vessel floated, tranquilly, 
 On the glass'd mirror of the waters chill ; 
 And not a tree, nor vale, nor house, nor hill, 
 All round the horizon, met the straining view ; — 
 The blank and bleak monotony to fill — 
 Save the far fields of boundless ocean blue. 
 Paved with the stars of heaven, that tremblingly shone 
 through.
 
 ELDRED OF ERIN. 71 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Then would fond Fancy wing her fairy flight, 
 Away ! away ! far o'er the sleeping foam ; 
 Over those crystal-buried worlds of light, 
 Back to her native mountains and her home — 
 Ah me ! thought I, how painful 'tis to roam 
 From all on earth we valued and held dear ; 
 From the loved land where laughing eyes would come 
 To charm us with their virtue — then the tear 
 Gushed from my labouring heart, and fell - - - as it falls 
 here 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Oh ! it were bliss to be but in that land 
 Where they are sleeping in the cold cold clay ; 
 Where once I wandered, gaily, hand in hand, 
 With those who loved me dearly many a day : — 
 The friend of this frail throbbing bosom — yea, 
 The more than friend ; the faithful and the fair : 
 The parent too — Oh ! all — all snatched away : 
 Well may I weep — my earnest, only prayer, 
 Is, that this heart were hushed, in slumber, with them 
 there.
 
 TZ ELDRED OF ERTN. 
 
 XX. 
 
 To stand alone upon the midnight deck : 
 To gaze around upon the cold, calm sea ; 
 Where not a rock, nor bark, nor spar, nor speck, 
 Of aught save Ocean blue, is seen to be :— 
 Forgotten — friendless — fatherless — and free 
 As the poor fettered Indian Slave — all good, 
 All learning, all religion, scorned to see — 
 As the bark's prow spurns back the foaming flood — 
 Thus — thus to stand alone Oh ! this is Solitude ! 
 
 XXI. 
 
 My soul breaks forth ! — my heart's already broken ; 
 My joys all blighted, and my hopes all crushed : 
 This withered heart, alas ! is but the token 
 Of a fair bud, that only bloomed and blushed, 
 And then was blighted — yet from it have rushed 
 Tears, sweet as from the fairest ever started. — 
 What am I ? — nothing ! — then my voice be hushed : 
 Oh ! what can heal the breast which thus hath smarted- 
 The heavy-laden soul — the lorn — the broken-hearted ?
 
 ELDRED OF I . I ! I N . i3 
 
 XXII. 
 My Father ! — Oh ! my Parent's in his grave ; 
 Heaven rest his soul ! — he cannot hear me now : — 
 Thus perish all most dear — the good ! — the hrave ! — 
 Where shall I look for comfort ? — turn, O ! Thou 
 Who hear'st the Orphan's prayer, and teach me how 
 To hear with resignation — well I know 
 That Thou canst cool afresh this aching hrow ; 
 Wipe all my tears away ; sooth all my wo ; 
 And guide me — love me, still ; yea, wheresoe'er I go 1 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 Thou, too ! — O ! Sister of my soul's pure pleasures ! 
 What were this life — this cold world without thee ? 
 All that my heart within its centre treasures ; 
 My Joy ! my Pride ! — thou art a world to me ; 
 And in thy gentle heart there seems to he 
 A Heaven of pure affection, which doth flame 
 Like some bright beacon mid life's stormy sea : — 
 There are who love, and then forget the name ; 
 But, let the cold world change, we still shall love the same. 
 
 E
 
 74 ELDRED OF ERIN. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 Oh ! what on earth below, in Heaven above, 
 Where all is sunshine, love, perfection, bliss, 
 Can match the heaven of a Sister's love ? 
 A Sister's love that cheers a world like this ! 
 Sweet as the winds Arabian flowers that kiss : 
 Pure as the star, the streaming star of even ; 
 And deep as Ocean's most profound abyss. — 
 Oh ! take thy Brother's blessing fondly given : 
 Be it thy crown on earth, thine humblest gem in Heaven. 
 
 xxv. 
 Were not our hearts cast in the self-same mould ? 
 Twin-born our being, and our souls but one ? 
 Though mine be less refulgent, thine is gold ; 
 A pure, immortal, intellectual sun ! 
 Did not we drink existence cradled on 
 The same dear bosom ? and each infant heart 
 Partook the others joys, as life did run : — 
 What happy days we both have seen ! — I start 
 To think that we must no ; ah no ! we cannot, part.
 
 KLDRED OF ERIN* 75 
 
 \\VI. 
 We part ! — Oh Heaven ! — together have we roved, 
 One house our home, one cradle was our hed ; 
 Together laughed in innocence, and loved 
 The golden hours away ; and I have led 
 Thy footsteps, oft, where smiling flowers were spread : — 
 And must we part, hecause to thee is given 
 The purest soul ? — Oh no ! I'll lay my head, 
 In peace, upon thy bosom, calm as Even ; 
 And hand in hand we'll walk to our sweet home in Heaven. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Say, what is man — frail, feeble, fragile man ? 
 A ruin checkered o'er with light and shade ! 
 A soul entombed in dust I that dust a span 
 " Most fearfully, most wonderfully made ! " 
 A lovely flower, that flourishes to fade ! 
 A temple filled with an immortal mind ! 
 A signet with Jehovah's stamp display'd ! 
 A spirit in a veil of dust enshrined ! 
 A God ! a worm ! a world ! a heaven ! a hell ! combined !
 
 76 EI.DIIED OF ERIN. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 Behold the Day-fly revelling in her mirth ! 
 Think'st thou her pleasures are not dashed with pain ? 
 Though, when mild evening sets upon her birth, 
 She flutters — falls — and dust is dust again ! — 
 Behold the sear leaves withering o'er the plain ! 
 Did not they once, all fresh, heaven's blue dome fan ? — 
 Behold the white surge foaming from the main ! 
 It bounds, and bursts, and glitters for a span : — 
 All beautiful ! — all fair ! — all fleeting ! Such is Man ! 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 Genius ! thou wavering, wild, eccentric Star ; 
 The curse of thousands, yet the thirst of all ; 
 How marvellous and how beautiful you are, 
 Where'er upon this frail terrestrial ball 
 Your wreaths of emanating radiance fall ! 
 With all your eccentricities and woes, 
 Your pride, your passions misanthropical ; 
 Still are you honoured, even by your foes, 
 And, crowned with endless bays, you take your last repose.
 
 ELDKED OF ERIN. H 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Byron ! immortal Byron ! thou art gone 
 Where all the Bards of earth have fled before : 
 Byron! immortal Byron ! thou wert one 
 Whose early crush'd heart, wounded to the core, 
 Bled inwardly each hitter drop of gore — 
 Oh I Byron ! — Oh ! unhappy, reckless Bard ; 
 Thy deep-toned lyre is hushed for evermore : — 
 Though round thy brows the storms of life blew hard, 
 Still Genius bowed to thee, and owned her Sovereign Lord ! 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 'Tis this great power makes man at once a God ! 
 'Tis Genius lifts him far above all clay ; 
 Above the crashed crowd grovelling in the clod ; 
 To heights, from which th' Enthusiast may survey 
 The petty pigmies of the world at play : — 
 There let him feel the keen cold blast that blows ; 
 To Newton, Milton, Byron, what's the spray 
 Of the world's envious breathings? — Fame! — God 
 knows, 
 A man can ne'er be Great, unless he has his foes !
 
 18 ELDRED OF ERIN. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 Hail ! sweet, soul-soothing Poesy ! — how bless'd 
 
 How favoured is the child that's wrapt in thee ! 
 His heart a world of tenderness — his breast 
 A very Heaven of living ecstasy ! 
 What though a gloom o'er his serenity 
 Is thrown to day ; his sky's all blue to-morrow : — 
 The heart that feels must ever mournful be ; 
 I would not give my pleasures dashed with sorrow, 
 For all the purest joys that mortal man can borrow. 
 
 xxxm. 
 In summer I'm all song ! — my heart and soul 
 Drink flowers, and dews, and sunshine, and delight ; 
 And feel expansion with the roar and roll 
 Of woods, and floods, and clouds, and glorious night ; 
 Then I'm' all rapture — then my soul's all light, 
 And every flower, and every leaf, to me, 
 Is a creation, beautiful and bright ! — 
 How Great! — how Good ! — how Glorious ! must He be, 
 Who made this lovely world the Paradise we see !
 
 ELD RED OF ERIN. 19 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 Nature ! come forth I thou Goddess of my soul ! 
 Thou sea sublime ! thou boundless world of waters ! 
 Rocking the mountains with thy thundering roll ; 
 Paved with pure gems, yet stained with countless 
 
 slaughters. — 
 Flora and Ceres ! Nature's loveliest daughters — 
 The treasured darlings of my soul, come forth ! 
 Where Heaven with bright tears India's garden waters, 
 I've felt your influence and beheld your worth. — 
 Oh Nature, sweet to me are all thy forms on earth ! 
 
 xxxv. 
 First comes sweet Spring in all her balmy mildness, 
 Adorned with leafy sprigs and fairy flowers : — 
 Shoots the young vivid verdure in] its wildness ; 
 Flush the fresh fields, and bud the blooming bowers, 
 Gemm'd with soft dews, impearl'd with tender showers. — 
 Up mounts the Lark to meet the merry morning ; 
 While silvery Music leads the gentle Hours ; 
 And the bright bow, a soft shower's sunny warning, 
 Laughs mid the fleeting clouds yon glittering vale adorning!
 
 80 ELDltED OF EltlN, 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 Then comes bright Summer, beautiful and blue ; 
 All sunshine, roses, vegetable blooms : 
 The crystal rills their warbling ways pursue ; 
 Bleat the white Hocks among the golden brooms. 
 A dazzling deluge all the world illumes ; 
 Droop the parch'd flowers on Nature's panting breast ; 
 Till the black Tempest spreads his pitchy plumes, 
 Then ragged lightnings tear the mountain's crest, 
 And the dread thunder rolls sublime along the west ! 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 Follows rich Autumn, crowned with golden corn ; 
 Sweet scents the withered grass along the way ; 
 The yellow fields laugh in the saffron morn ; 
 And merry Reapers, ranged in fair array, 
 Ply the sharp sickle all the sultry day — 
 Pomona reddens on the bending boughs — 
 Myriads of wing'd gems in the sunbeams play — 
 From clustering vines the empurpled torrent flows, 
 And through the falling leaves the whistling South-wind 
 blows.
 
 ELDRED OF EH IN. SI 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 Last comes stern Winter robed in fleecy snow — 
 Through the calm air the whitening flakes descend : 
 Broad beams red Phoebus mid the vapours low ; 
 While, from the leafless forest boughs depend 
 Cold glassy icicles, and far extend 
 The sparkling fields — the lake's a crystal plain ! 
 Thick sown with stars the heavens of midnight bend : 
 When lo ! the white hills melt with genial rain ; 
 Laughs the ascending sun, and Spring returns again I 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 Oh ! ever varying, mild, mysterious round ! 
 
 " The rolling year, " indeed, " is full of Thee, " 
 
 Great God of Love ! — Earth ! make a joyful sound, 
 
 With all thy birds — Thou blue and boundless Sea ! 
 
 And all that in thy mighty waters be, 
 
 Praise your Creator ! — Praise Him in the skies, 
 
 Ye Seraphim ! — Ye Cherubim ! Give me 
 
 " Expressive silence, " and my soul shall rise 
 Far, far above all clay, which blossoms, breathes and dies !
 
 82 ELDRED OF ERIN. 
 
 XL. 
 
 But where is Eldred ? — 'T were an endless task 
 To ponder all the works and ways of God : 
 There are two books will tell thee all : — Go ask 
 Thy Bible, — Nature, — Creature of the clod ! 
 There's not a flower o'er which thy steps have trod, 
 Hath not a volume in each withering leaf! 
 There's not a worm that glitters o'er the sod, 
 Speaks not its world of wonder ! — 'T were a grief 
 To pass all unobserved : — then pause, however brief. 
 
 XLI. 
 
 Mark yonder aged, venerable man ! 
 Beside the Solitary bending low ; 
 With drooping head, and withered visage, wan ; 
 And locks, which Time hath silvered o'er with snow, 
 All thinly scattered round his aged brow :— 
 A passing Pilgrim he ; whose only wealth 
 Is the poor pittance Strangers can bestow ; 
 Worn — wasted — weak — so far removed from Health, 
 That life itself but seems a transitory stealth !
 
 ELDRED OE ERIN. S3 
 
 XLII. 
 
 Eldred aye loved to lend a listening ear 
 To tlie poor Beggar by the highway side : — 
 His heart was warm ; and oft the stealing tear, 
 That wandered down his cheeks, he strove to hide : 
 So far was he removed from paltry pride, 
 That Kings, to him, were lighter in the scale 
 Than the poor Outcast, who was all denied 
 The baubles of the world. — His cheek grew pale, 
 While thus the Pilgrim told his melancholy tale : — 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 O'er Wicklow mountains blew the bleak cold blast ; 
 Around their gloomy crags in clouds arrayed, 
 Wild Winter's veil o'er Nature's face was cast : — 
 When, lorn and lonely, through the deep snows strayed 
 A poor, young, helpless, pale and pining maid ; 
 A weeping babe she cradled in her arms, 
 And wrapp'd his shivering limbs in ragged plaid : — 
 Reckless of hers, his fate alone alarms, 
 Calls forth her tears, and all the Mother's bosom warms !
 
 84 ELDllED OF ERIN. 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 Where the grey crags o'erhang the mossy stone, 
 And the brook brawls along its pebbly bed ; 
 She sat her down, in wretchedness, alone, 
 And wept aloud, and bowed her languid head ; 
 And ah ! full many a bitter tear she shed : — 
 Cold blew the blast, fast fell the drifting snow ; 
 Till in the Mother's arms the babe lay dead ! 
 And both were buried deep and dark below ; 
 Froz'n in the sleep of Death — one monument of Wo ! 
 
 XLV. 
 
 Great God ! the Pilgrim paused till his full heart 
 
 Gushed forth, in one fast torrent of warm tears : 
 With eyes upturned, and quivering lips apart, 
 He raised his hands t'wards Heaven — Be hushed my fears, 
 For they are gone ! — the Partner of long years ! 
 The child of Innocence ! — my wife ! — my boy ! 
 Oh 1 all this world and all this life endears, 
 
 Thus perished ! There's a moment will destroy, 
 
 With one wild, withering blight, a bless'd long life of joy !
 
 ELDRED OF ERIN. 8fi 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 Oh ! Poverty — how pitiless thy state ! 
 How keen o'er thee the blasts of Fortune blow ! 
 And are ye deaf to all their cries, ye Great ? 
 Alas ! alas ! how little do you know 
 Of all the cares, and pangs, and bitter wo, 
 The poor, yet honest Beggar's born to bear : — 
 Well may the tear of tender Pity flow ; 
 Well may the warm heart fellow-feelings share. — 
 Stranger ! God loves the man who heeds Misfortune's 
 prayer. 
 
 XLVI I. 
 
 Ah ! well knew Eldred God did love the man 
 Whose heart was open to Misfortune's cry ; 
 And o'er his cheeks the tear of pity ran, 
 And all his soul was tender sympathy : — 
 Poor man, said he, as the heart-rending sigh 
 Burst from the Beggar's bosom — May the God 
 Who rules supreme in yonder lovely sky, 
 Protect thee — guard thee — guide thee up the road 
 That leads to all you love, in Virtue's blessed abode.
 
 S6 ELDRED OF ERIN. 
 
 XLVIII. 
 
 Now had the sun his burning forehead laved 
 In the cold crystal of the glowing deep ; 
 And the round moon her silver banner waved 
 
 O'er the blue, boundless, star-bespangled steep : 
 
 All earth — all heaven — all Nature lay in sleep ; 
 Clear, cloudless, bright and beautiful ! when they 
 Parted : — that Pilgrim still to pause and weep ; 
 That youth to wind his solitary way, 
 Where his romantic home among the green woods lay. 
 
 XLXIX. 
 
 Who hath not loved fair woman ? — is there one, 
 Whose heart is formed of tender, breathing mould, 
 Between the poles, beneath the blessed sun, 
 Could look on her all callously and cold ? 
 No ! no ! — Nor Power, nor Genius, Rank, nor Gold, 
 Can purchase her sweet love : it stands alone, 
 A Heaven on earth I — free— fearless — uncontroll'd ! 
 How bless'd is he, who all to guile unknown, 
 Can call her gentle heart of innocence — his own !
 
 ELQRED OK THIN'. 87 
 
 L. 
 
 Oh ! ecstacy of admiration ! — Earth! 
 With womankind how beautiful thou art ! 
 In wo or weal, in mourning or in mirth ; 
 In every climate and in every part : — 
 Ye gentle Charmers of Man's ruder heart ! 
 What were the world without you ?— what this life ? 
 All dark — all drear — all desolate — a mart 
 Of helpless, hopeless agony and strife : 
 Now all so heautiful, with Mother ! — Sister ! — Wife ! 
 
 LI. 
 
 Yes ; womankind ! I love thee, with a soul 
 Deeply devoted — with a pleasing, pure, 
 And perfect passion, that hath all control 
 O'er this frail heart — a love that will endure, 
 As firm, as fixed, as faithful, fervent, sure, 
 As ever fancy formed, or Minstrel sung ! 
 What, though earth's clouds of sorrow may obscure 
 The bright blue skies, that Innocence had hung 
 O'er thy heart's early life, so passionate, pure and young ?
 
 88 ELDRED OF ERIN. 
 
 I. II. 
 
 Its beauty beams through all ! — go ask the man 
 Who lay before thee on the couch of death, 
 When life's slow current through his hot veins ran, 
 And his sunk soul seemed fleeting with each breath 
 Hear what the female-tended captive saith ; 
 
 The Stranger in a foreign land — the foe 
 
 The very outcast, who hath proved her faith : 
 
 And they will tell thee, wheresoe'er you go, 
 That gentle Womankind is all our Heaven below ! 
 
 LIU. 
 
 Then, Eldred loved ! — the Lady of his love 
 Was all to him — her golden, flowing hair ; 
 Her deep, blue eyes, like dewy orbs above ; 
 Her lineaments, so exquisitely fair ! 
 Her brow serene — the Heaven of sweetness there ! 
 Her form so slender, delicate and light ! 
 Her mild deportment, and her gentle air ; 
 Were all so lovely in young Eldred's sight, 
 That she alone seemed good, and beautiful, and bright »
 
 ELDRED OF LKIN. 88 
 
 I. IV. 
 
 Oli ! they would look into each others eyes, 
 And read each other's souls ; as ye, above, 
 Will trace the stars that gem the clear blue skies : 
 And they would breathe each other's breath — and love 
 To hear their hearts in rapturous fondness move ! 
 Such hours were not for Eloquence — a sigh — 
 A look — a breath itself, would deeply prove 
 Their souls' pure passion — thus the hours did fly : 
 All earth was lovely then — all Nature ecstasy ! 
 
 LV. 
 
 Look on the desert flower ! — how beauteous, there, 
 It buds, and blooms, and flourishes, and dies ! 
 Pencilled by Flora, delicately fair — 
 Like Evening's soft beams scattered o'er the skies — 
 Behold ! — admire ! — consider — ponder— prize — 
 Poor Fool ! —then see it wither, fall, and rot ! 
 So fades the flower from Eldred's Paradise ; 
 So did his loved one perish !— mark the spot 
 Where that fair being sleeps, by the cold world forgot !
 
 90 ELDRED OF ERIN. 
 
 LVI. 
 
 She died in beauty ! — innocent and young I— 
 Poor child ! she loved her Eldred to the last ; 
 And his dear name fell faltering from her tongue, 
 When life, and love, and light, were ebbing fast 
 From her young heart — but oh ! my God, 'tis past ! 
 And why — why dwell on such a mournful theme ? 
 All that he loved — adored ! — dread Death, thou hast. — 
 Sure may the mournful Solitary deem, 
 That man's a fading flower, and this dark life a dream. 
 
 LVII. 
 
 Oft would he linger in that lonely dell, 
 Where his young love lay buried ; till the day 
 From Heaven's blue arch, beyond the mountain, fell ; 
 And faded, beautifully, ray by ray, 
 Like a departing Spirit, all away ! 
 And the pale stars shone forth — there would he mourn 
 O'er blighted hopes and pleasures gone for aye ; 
 Sweet, happy days that never could return, 
 While thus he poured his soul above that lonely urn : —
 
 ELDRK!) OJ EKIN. 91 
 
 LVI1I. 
 
 What Toice was that which smote the ambient air ? 
 So heavenly sweet ! — Can there he Spirits here, 
 Which hold their vigils o'er one heart, and bear, 
 On floating pinions to my ravished ear, 
 The solemn music of yon lovely sphere — 
 Shining like Hope above Life's stormy sea ? — 
 Or was it only fancy ? — Ah ! that tear, 
 Wandering adown my pale cheeks, seems to be 
 A little world of bliss that's whispering peace to me. 
 
 LIX. 
 
 Where hast thou flowed from pure and cherished gem ? 
 Did that sweet music call thee from my heart? 
 Or hast thou fall'n from some rich diadem 
 Wreathing the brow of Angel, to impart 
 A balm to this tired bosom, which doth smart 
 Beneath its cares and sorrows? — Far more kind 
 Than aught the fickle world can give, thou art 
 To me, bright gem ! for thou hast left behind 
 A holy, heavenly calm, that steals through all my mind.
 
 92 ELDRED OF ERIN. 
 
 LX. 
 
 And doth thy spirit hover o'er me, then, 
 My long lost love — Oh ! is it — is it thou ? 
 And dost thou come to love me, here, again, 
 Where all around is gloom and grief? — Ah ! how 
 I watched the blossom withering on the bough ! 
 Intensely watched, till all my visions fled — 
 Yes, I had hope ev'n to the last ; but now, 
 Since thou art sleeping in the narrow bed, 
 All my fond hopes are vain, all my pure pleasures dead. 
 
 LXl. 
 
 My long lost love ! when last I looked on thee ; 
 When last I gazed upon thy beauteous brow, 
 Cold as the sculptured spar, there seemed to be 
 A glory circling thy whole form : — although 
 The icy hand of Death had laid thee low ; 
 Still wert thou lovely, my beloved one ; 
 Still from thy lips a language seemed to flow, 
 Whispering sweet peace to me — But thou art gone, 
 And lonely through the storms of Life my bark drives on.
 
 ELDRED or 1 IUN. !'.'* 
 
 J-XII. 
 
 Where is Health's rich carnation which did Idossom 
 In thy fair cheeks ?— Where is the golden hair 
 That spread in wavy ringlets o'er thy bosom ? 
 Thy laughing eyes : thy brow of radiance, where ? 
 In the cold grave ? — Ah ! no — no, not ev'n there : — 
 Thy beauteous form has withered from the tomb — 
 As morning's purple cloud dissolves in air — 
 And all around thy silent bed is gloom, 
 Save where the dewy flowers in pallid beauty bloom. 
 
 LXIII. 
 
 But let me dwell no more on ashes cold — 
 Where is thy soul of innocence, my Love ? 
 Through which flowed streams of thought like molten 
 
 gold ; 
 Pure as the sunshine ! spotless as the Dove ! 
 O ! rapturous thought ! — O ! ecstacy ! above, 
 Where mortal mists no more thine eyes shall dim ; 
 Where hymning quires in radiant circles move ; 
 Winging their way around the throne of Him, 
 Who sits, sublime, in light, amid the Cherubim !
 
 94 ELDRKD OF ERIN. 
 
 LXIV. 
 
 Ah ! when I think, my lost one ! thou ait blessed, 
 There is a secret pleasure in ray grief ; 
 And, though my soul with sorrow is oppressed, 
 The big warm tears — like dew-drops from the leaf — 
 Give this o'erburdened heart such sweet relief, 
 That I could weep in silence till to-morrow : — 
 But ah ! how fleeting is the night — how brief 
 Are the delightful beams of bliss we borrow, 
 From contemplating, thus, in holy, heart-felt sorrow. 
 
 LXV. 
 
 Before to-morrow — what a gulf there lies ! 
 Before yon stars are buried in the day ; — 
 Long ere the morning paints the purple skies, 
 I may be far from thy green isle away, 
 Mine own romantic Erin ! — I may stray 
 Round the wide world, but still my heart's with thee, 
 Let thy wild flowers, and bees, and birds be gay, 
 When my salt tears are mingling with the sea ; 
 And none but those I've loved, in Heaven, remember me !
 
 El.DHED OV EKIN. 05 
 
 LXVI. 
 
 Flow forth, then, O ! my tears — man doth not know 
 
 The halm ye pour into the wounded hreast : 
 
 Flow freely forth my tears, unceasing flow, 
 
 And lull this trouhled bosom into rest : — 
 
 What though / mourn ! — my life ! — my love ! — thou'rt 
 
 bless'd ! 
 And 'tis my joy to think so, while I'm driven 
 Through this bleak world, a vale of tears at best — 
 Oh ! may it to my earnest prayer be given ; 
 That we may meet to part — no more, no more! — in Heaven! 
 
 LXV1I. 
 
 When his full heart had spent itself in sighs ; 
 And peace, like balm, into his bosom stole ; 
 When the last tears came gushing to those eyes 
 From which, unconscious, he ne'er felt them roll : — 
 He raised his harp, to pour his melting soul 
 In melody away — and as he sung, 
 O'er his young heart the tones had such control, 
 That still he wept, and by that urn he hung, 
 While soft as rills in Heaven those accents left his tongue. —
 
 *>t> l'.LDRED OF ERIN. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 " She died in beauty ! — like a rose 
 
 Blown from its parent stem : 
 She died in beauty ! — like a pearl 
 
 Dropp'd from some diadem. — 
 She died in beauty ! — like a lay 
 
 Along a moonlit lake : 
 She died in beauty ! — like the song 
 
 Of birds amid the brake — 
 She died in beauty ! — like the snow 
 
 On flowers dissolved away : 
 She died in beauty ! — like a star 
 
 Lost on the brow of day. 
 
 She lives in glory ! — like Night's gems 
 
 Set round the silver moon : 
 She lives in glory ! — like the sun 
 
 Amid the blue of June ! "
 
 EJ.DKLI) <>I ERIN. 97 
 
 LXVIII. 
 
 Perchance in Heaven they've met ! my tale is told — 
 
 The morn arose along the dewy lea, 
 
 And shook her diamonds from her throne of gold, 
 
 Empurpling all the emerald glancing sea : — 
 
 The noon-day flamed in fair serenity ; 
 
 But, where was Eldred ? — God knows ! — none could 
 
 tell! 
 Nor hy that urn, nor in that vale was he. — 
 
 My tale is told 1 yet may wake my shell 
 
 For him another day ; but now, we bid Farewell ! 
 
 FINIS. 
 
 EDINBURGH : TKINXED BY J. HUTCHISON,
 
 Lately Published, by the same Author, 
 VALLERY? OR, THE CITADEL OF Till LAKE, 
 
 A POEM, IN TWO VOLUMES 12\fO, 
 
 Price 10s. boards. 
 '• Fierce wars and faithful Ibyes shall moraMra my lay." — Sn si a, 
 
 Oliver & Boys, Edinburgh; Simvkin & Marshall, London; 
 Robertson &l Atkinson, Glasgow ; W. Curry, Jun. & Co. 
 Dublin. 
 
 OPINIONS OF VALLERY. 
 
 " We have pleasure in directing the attention of our readers to 
 this work. We find much to be pleased with, and hail with confi- 
 dence and gratification this accession of a fresh and ardent-minded 
 lover of the Muses, to the list of those whose names are already fa- 
 miliar to the public ear. 
 
 " Mr Sillery has cultivated his mind. His classical lore, his 
 scientific information, and his habits of industrious research, are 
 apparent in almost every page. If he describes a tournament, the 
 minutest laws and customs of Chivalry seem familiar to him ; and 
 he consequently presents many vivid and glowing pictures of deeds 
 done in the days of the shield and the lance, which even St Palaye, 
 Froisart, or Sir Walter Scott, might not have been ashamed to own. 
 If he speaks of an ancient castle, all the technicalities of architec- 
 ture seem at his finger ends : if he ascends a mountain, Geology 
 opens up her stores for him : if he lands on an uninhabited island, 
 Botany pours her treasures into his lap : the still midnight finds 
 him pointing to the heavens with the wand of an Astronomer : and 
 the vessel that bears him to distant lands, carries with it a curious 
 observer of all the natural phenomena of the earth. Hence, Mr 
 Sillery's verses are calculated to convey, not pleasure alone, but 
 also instruction, which ought to be the great aim of all writers, and 
 the chief object of all readers. More than a third part of each vo- 
 lume is occupied with notes, illustrative of the text ; and even a 
 hasty glance at these will show, that Mr Sillery has not been throw- 
 ing away the invaluable spring-time of his days in dreamy listless-
 
 ness — a Poet, perhaps, from the cradle, but a Poet still in a state of 
 infancy. Mr Sillery has cultivated his mind : and the many indi- 
 cations of his having done so, contained in the work before us, is 
 the first reason why we hold it worthy of commendation. 
 
 " A second, and no less powerful consideration, induces us to 
 bestow the meed of praise upon our author. His principles are 
 pure, his feelings are strong, and his enthusiasm, as yet unimpaired, 
 is all directed towards laudable objects. He is a passionate admirer 
 of nature in all her moods; he is full of benevolence towards all 
 his fellow-creatures ; there is none of the littleness of false pride, 
 or of morbid sensibility, or of harsh misanthropy, whether real or 
 pretended, about his book. He writes as a young poet always 
 should, honestly and unaffectedly, pouring over his subject the 
 warm glow of native, virtuous, and healthy sentiment. He is deep- 
 ly imbued with the best part of a poet's nature — the warm affections 
 and generous aspirations of the soul, from which all that is selfish 
 is excluded, and which elevate to eminence, simply by refining the 
 grosser parts of our nature. 
 
 " It is not too much to say of the following graphic sketch of a 
 knightly feast in Baron Vallery's castle, that it has a Homeric air. 
 — We are not quite sure that, even in ' Marmion,' many passages 
 will be found more spirit-stirring and accurately descriptive, than 
 that which we subjoin. 
 
 " In conclusion, we have no hesitation in saying, that we know 
 of few young men of one, or two-and-twenty, (and Mr Sillery is 
 no more), who have made so successful an appeal to the public, or 
 one which should be more speedily recognised and encouraged, 
 whether we regard the intrinsic excellence of this his first effort, or 
 the promise it holds out of still higher things yet to come." — Edin- 
 burgh Literary Journal, April. 
 
 " We have already spoken of this interesting work at some 
 length. We return to it, because there are one or two other ex- 
 tracts of much beauty which we wish to lay before our readers. 
 
 " What we especially like in Mr Sillery is, that his style is form- 
 ed after no particular model ; it is fresh and luxuriant, and alto- 
 gether his own. 
 
 " The following reflections, suggested by the calm of a summer's 
 night, together with the description which follows, of a shower at 
 daybreak, and the coming of morning, are exceedingly beautiful. 
 
 " We call on Mr Sillery to go on steadily and boldly — ' successo 
 acrior ipso ' — and we have the most sanguine expectations of the 
 result." — Edinburgh Literary Journal, May.
 
 3 
 
 " This is a metrical romance, redolent of true poetry, and Rear- 
 ing the stamp of genius in almost every page. It is evidently the 
 production of a young, and amiable, and enthusiastic mind." — New 
 Scots Magazine. 
 
 " The poem takes a different turn, and introduces us to scenes 
 that delight the senses, encourage the daring, and reward the enter- 
 prises cf heroic valour. The poetry, which is much diversified in 
 metre, is highly respectable in its character, bringing before us at 
 times coruscations of thought which border on the sublime. To 
 the lovers of chivalry, romance, crusades, and the tumultuous ebul- 
 litions of the dark ages, ' The Citadel of the Lake ' will furnish 
 much entertainment." — Imperial Magazine. 
 
 " His memory is stored with recent and diversified reading, 
 which is freely given out in his copious and curious illustrative 
 notes, and which likewise appears abundantly in the course of the 
 poem. We have met with no finer description of the approach of 
 morning, even in Lucretius, than the following. — It affords us un- 
 feigned pleasure to have it in our power to state, that his feelings 
 are ardent and excellent, that his piety is pure and devout, and that 
 his views of religion are enlightened and evangelical. — His poem, 
 all things considered, is an extraordinary performance." — Edin- 
 burgh Evening Post. 
 
 " A more enthusiastic child of song than Charles Doyne Sillery, 
 has rarely appeared on this terraqueous globe. We have seen him 
 in retirement, and we have seen him in society, and whether seated 
 in the dark penetralia of our office, or acting the gay and gallant 
 cavalier among fair women and brave men, we found him invariably 
 the same single-hearted, frank-spoken, honest fellow. Like An- 
 acreon Moore, his wit flashes in incessant coruscations. Like the 
 same illustrious bard, he sings his own songs, and dashes even his 
 prose with poetical ornature. He possesses, moreover, the astrono- 
 mical enthusiasm of a Newton, the philosophic vein of a Brown, 
 and the mechanical skill of a Watt. About the ordinary size, and 
 exceedingly slender in figure ; we never look upon his eye, gleam- 
 ing with intellectual fire, but we think of the 
 
 ' mighty soul, that, working out its way, 
 
 Fretteth the puny body to decay. ' 
 
 Mr Sillery is still very, very young ; yet he has visited, not only 
 mentally, but bodily, the uttermost parts of the earth. He has
 
 been rocked by the tropic billows — has seen the tomb oi' Napoleon 
 Bonaparte — doubled the cape of storms — gazed on the palmy head- 
 lands of Hindostan, and learnt to eat with chop-sticks in China. 
 But we are dealing too largely in generals. ' The Citadel of the 
 Lake' is before us, and the world is, of course, anxious to know 
 what we think of its arcliitecture. 
 
 " Mr Sillery, with a warmth of gratitude that redounds to his 
 honour, has dedicated his two volumes to his Excellency Baron 
 G. A. P. Van Der Capellen, late Governor- General of the Indian 
 possessions belonging to the King of the Netherlands, in whose 
 company he returned from the East, and who was the first person 
 of distinction who patronized his juvenile muse. — The mutations of 
 his boyhood have given a versatility to his muse that it would not 
 be easy to parallel : it leaps like lightning from land to land, and 
 from sea to sea ; it wanders into all variety of rhythm ; and it trans- 
 mutes into verse all sorts of topics, however recondite. There is a 
 piling of armour — a marshalling of brand and banner — an apparel- 
 ling of maidens — a glittering of gems — a clustering of fruits — a 
 grouping of trees — a strewing of flowers — a tinting of skies — a smil- 
 ing of seas, and a tossing of waves, such as no other poem that we 
 are acquainted with exhibits. — As evidence of the genuine piety 
 that pervades ' Vallery, ' in which, indeed, we have not discovered 
 one loose or indecorous sentiment, we quote the following ardent 
 apostrophe to Nature. — Mr Sillery's reading has been immense, 
 and no scrap that could illustrate his poem has escaped him, whether 
 buried in the musty tomes of departed genius, or floating down to 
 oblivion with the ephemeral literature of the day. Not satisfied 
 with copious quotations, he refers the reader to nearly a hundred 
 works, ancient and modern, illustrative of Chivalry, which may be 
 advantageously consulted. " — Edinburgh Observer. 
 
 " We confidently predict that Vallery will be a standard work, 
 and a great favourite with the public. " — Caledonian Mercury. 
 
 " There are numerous lines which we could quote as specimens 
 of fine poetic power and feeling. He possesses a creditable portion 
 of information and learning, — his mind is obviously well cultivated, 
 — his sentiments are faultless, — his imagination is ardent, — and his 
 genius is built upon the solid foundations of extensive literary ac- 
 quirements. "—Glasgow Scots Times. 
 
 " Mr Sillery is distinguished by a vast and rapid imagination, 
 that takes in at one view the boundless resources of nature and art,
 
 and lays under contribution the whole dominion of metaphor and 
 illustration! He in no instance reduces his language to the level 
 of his subject, hut, with a skill peculiar to himself, invariably raises 
 his subject to the height of his inexhaustible vocabulary. 
 
 '* The novelty of this mode of developing character is obvious — 
 so far as our experience goes, it has never been tried before, and 
 certainly never with so much success as by Mr Sillery. In like 
 manner, all convulsions of nature, and all accidents of fortune, are 
 treated by him ; he never allows a storm, for instance, to work out 
 its end by the mere unaided fury of the elements, as vulgar Poets 
 do, but calls in the help of all possible and impossible metaphorical 
 assistance. This talent at embellishment brings us to another sin- 
 gular power, which pervades every line, and furnishes it with rich 
 and costly phrases. 
 
 " There is not a single science that does not furnish a partial 
 light to the bard in his inimitable descriptions, which are as minute 
 as they are diversified. He ranges with admirable fidelity through 
 the regions of knowledge, and, like that morning breath which ge- 
 nerates Angels in a rill of Paradise, he passes over all topics, to 
 people them with his own delightful fancies. 
 
 " This passage exhibits, in a very elaborate manner, the Poet's 
 acquaintance with the secrets of the deep. He is a profound Orni- 
 thologist, and hath also a large acquaintance with the finny tribes. 
 His knowledge on the subject of Minerals is equal to his genius for 
 invention. The multitude of stones is perfectly astounding. But 
 the cavalcade of warriors, each rivalling the baron, is, in point of 
 glitter, surpassing human conception," — The Atlas. 
 
 " Never were mottoes to a work more strikingly descriptive of 
 its prevailing characteristics of purpose and execution, than those 
 which have been selected to herald Vallery, by its author. The 
 passing inspiration of the hour has led to a series of various and 
 curious experiments in measure, the diversity of which is greater 
 than we ever remember to have met with in any other narrative 
 poem. — With a daring that has something bold and redeeming in it, 
 even blank verse is, for the first time, interspersed with rhyme in 
 the splendid Mosaic, along which the stream of story sparkling 
 flows with a brightness that confuses us, and a bubbling music, that 
 almost makes amends for the foamy obscurity sometimes that mars 
 its clearness.— It is needless to detail the story of a splendid series 
 of pageants. Let the play-wrights and opera-composers look to 
 that.— It would make a gorgeous spectacle, as it makes a dazzling
 
 <; 
 
 romance — displaying a rare and varied lore, altogether extraordi- 
 nary in so young a man." — Glasgow Free Press. 
 
 " We have read Mr Sillery's volumes with very great pleasure ; 
 and have no hesitation of assigning to him a place in the first class 
 of our poetical jeunesse. He is a young man of decided genius, 
 and, what is bestowing upon him very great additional praise, his 
 heart is of a right kind, having stored up in it an abundance of 
 amiable feeling, and correct moral sentiment ; of this every page 
 of his book affords evidence. Even in his most discursive pans, 
 there is an air of freshness and originality. We recommend Mr 
 Sillery's book to our readers, promising them much pleasure in the 
 perusal of it." — Dundee Courier. 
 
 " Every form which English verse is capable of assuming has 
 been employed. Mr Sillery has resided in India; all his pages 
 glow with Eastern scenery ; our eyes are dazzled — blinded with the 
 overpowering lustre of Eastern gems, Eastern birds, insects, fruits, 
 and flowers ; our senses oppressed with Eastern perfume and the 
 songs of the bulbul. Mr Sillery is a ' youthful bard, ' with a me- 
 mory stored with the productions of our best poets, with a mind 
 alive to all the beauties of nature." — La Belle Assemblee. 
 
 " There is a great deal of genius in this poem, the best proof of 
 which is, the degree of attentiomit has excited. The poem of Val- 
 lery has obtained considerable notice ; and this circumstance, by 
 creating a presumption that it was not an ordinary production, in- 
 duced us to read it. We found our inference correct ; there is a 
 delightful freshness about the work. The verses seem not to be 
 distilled from an alembic of imitation and study, but to flow from 
 an inexhaustible spring of fancy and feeling. They are full of 
 tenderness and passion ; and there is, throughout, a tone of such 
 purity, so much loftiness of sentiment, and ardent and unaffected 
 piety, that there are few, we will venture to say, who will read the 
 poem without strong feelings of pleasure. His Oriental pictures, 
 in particular, are splendid and glowing. There is much freedom 
 and command of poetical language in his style, and great variety in 
 his versification. He has a strong feeling for the melody of verse. 
 The following most gorgeous picture of a tropical "sunset'is evi- 
 dently painted from nature. — We close this book with feelings of 
 admiration of Mr Sillery's genius — a genius destined, we trust, to 
 accomplish great undertakings." — Edinburgh Weekly Journal.
 

 
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