Then is shee gone? O foole and coward I!
O good occasion lost, ne're to be found!
What fatall chaines haue my dull senses bound,
When best they may, that they not fortune trie?
Here is the flowrie bed where shee did lie,
With roses here shee stellified the ground,
Shee fix'd her eyes on this yet smyling pond,
Nor time, nor courteous place, seem'd ought denie.
Too long, too long, respect, I doe embrace
Your counsell, full of threats and sharpe disdaine;
Disdaine in her sweet heart can haue no place,

The hour has struck! at last in heaven
The golden shield an angel smites!
On Erin's altars thunder-riven
A happier destiny alights.
'Tis done that cannot be undone,
The lordlier ages have begun;
The flood that widens as it flows
Is loosed; fulfilled the triple woes!

Once more the Faith uplifts her forehead,
Star-circled, to the starry skies:
Fangless at last, a snake abhorred,
Beneath her foot oppression lies:
Above the waning moon of time
The apparition stands sublime,
From hands immaculate, hands of light,

IN THE ODDITIES .

Come painter, with thy happiest slight,
Portray me every grace
In that blest region of delight,
My charming Sylvia's face:

And hear me painter, to enhance
The value of thine art,
Steal from her eyes that very glance
That stole away my heart.

II.

Her forehead paint, in sway and rule,
Where sits, with pleasure grac'd,
A form like Venus beautiful,

They led him to the peopled wall.
“Thy sons,” they said, “are those within!
If at thy word their standards fall
Thy life and freedom thou shalt win!”

Then spake that warrior bishop old:
“Remove these chains that I may bear
My crozier staff and stole of gold:
My judgement then I will declare.”

They robed him in his robes of state:
They set the mitre on his head:
On tower and gate was silence great:
The hearts that loved him froze with dread.

He spake: “Right holy is your strife!

Now Night's sullen Noon spreads her mantle around,
And menacing thunders roll solemn in air,
Amanda's sad accents the woodlands resound,
Dark mountains re-echo these plaints of despair.

— See how the gloom deepens, the rude tempest roars,
— And loud the rough North-wind howls through the expanse,
— Old Ocean, hoarse murmuring, lashes the shores,
— While phantoms of night o'er the wild desert dance.

— The prominent cliff, that impends o'er the flood
— Responds to the ominous scream of the owl;

Almighty Power! The One S UPREME !
Our souls inspire, attune our lays
With hearts as solemn as our theme,
To sing hosannas to thy praise!

Then, while we swell the sacred song,
And bid the pealing anthem rise
May seraphim the strain prolong,
And hymns of glory fill the skies.

Thy word omnifick form'd this earth,
Ere time began revolving years —
Thy fiat gave to Nature birth
And tun'd to harmony the spheres.

When stern Oppression's iron hand,
Our pious fathers forc'd to roam,
And o'er the wild wave seek the land

So, 'tis over! Lift the dead
Bear him to his place of rest,
Broken heart, and blighted head:
Lay the cross upon his breast.

There be many die too late;
Here is one that died too soon;
'Twas not fortune — it was fate
After him that cast her shoon.

Toll the church-bells slowly: toll!
God this day is wrath with Eire:
Seal the book, and fold the scroll;
Break the harp, and burst the wire.

Lords and priests, ye talked and talked
In Kilkenny's council hall;
But this man whose game ye baulked

Behold, my fair, the ruddy morn
Anticipate the day:
What beauteous tints the sky adorn,
And gild the azure way!

The sombre mists, which gloomy night
Had gather'd in the vale,
Are born aloft, and wing their flight
Before the rising gale.

Now chang'd to clouds of varied hue,
In airy maze they dance;
Now sweep athwart the welkin blue,
And gem the gay expanse.

The plumy tenant of the grove
Is perch'd on yonder spray,
And serenades his little love
With sweetest roundelay.

I

Fair she stood — God's queenly creature!
Wondrous joy was in her face;
Of her ladies none in stature
Like to her, and none in grace.
On the church-roof stood they near her,
Cloth of gold was her attire;
They in jewell'd circle wound her —
Beside her Ely's king, her sire.

II

Far and near the green fields glitter'd
Like to poppy-beds in spring,
Gay with companies loose-scatter'd

IN THE GRACES .

 Say, fluttering heart,
Why after days of sweet delight,
 Where conscious innocence bore part,
Serene as smiling morn, peaceful as silver night,
Or gay as gaudy noon, when Phœbus' beams shone bright.

 Say, how one hour,
One little instant, could remove
 That vacant careless joy? what power
Inflict the torments we now prove;
Cynthia forbid it ever should be love.

 Dear goddess, for fair honour's sake,
 Relieve the torments we partake!
 Teach us to cure our am'rous fires,
 Or else perm't us our desires: