In France, when the heart of a woman sets sail, On the ocean of wedlock its fortune to try, Love seldom goes far in a vessel so frail, But just pilots her off, and then bids her good-by! While the daughters of Erin keep the boy Ever smiling beside his faithful oar, Through billows of wo and beams of joy, The same as he look'd when he left the shore. Then remember, wherever your goblet is crown'd, Through this world whether eastward or westward you roam, When a cup to the smile of dear woman goes round, Oh! remember the smile which adorns her at home. Eveleen's Bower. Air-Unknown.16* Oh! weep for the hour, When to Eveleen's bower The Lord of the Valley with false vows came; The moon hid her light From the heavens that night And wept behind her clouds o'er the maiden's shame. The clouds past soon From the chaste cold moon, And heaven smil'd again with her vestal flame'; When the clouds shall pass away, Which that dark hour left upon Eveleen's fame. The white snow lay On the narrow path-way, Where the Lord of the Valley cross'd over the moor; And many a deep print On the white snow's tint Show'd the track of his footstep to Eveleen's door. The next sun's ray Soon melted away Every trace on the path where the false Lord came; But there's a light above, Which alone can remove That stain upon the snow of fair Eveleen's fame. Let Erin remember the days of old. Air-The Red Fox. Let Erin remember the days of old, Which he won from her proud invader; On Lough-Neagh's bank, as the fisherman strays, 19 He sees the round towers of other days Thus shall memory often; in dreams sublime, The song of Fionnula.20 Air-Arrah, my dear Eveleen. Silent, oh Moyle! be the roar of thy water, When will Heaven, its sweet bell ringing, Sadly, oh Moyle! to thy winter-wave weeping, Come, send round the wine. Air-We brought the Summer with us. Come, send round the wine, and leave points of belief To simpleton sages and reasoning fools; This moment's a flower too fair and brief, To be wither'd and stain'd by the dust of the schools. Your glass may be purple, and mine may be blue; But, while they are fill'd from the same bright bowl, The fool who would quarrel for difference of hue Deserves not the comfort they shed o'er the soul. Shall I ask the brave soldier, who fights by my side In the cause of mankind, if our creeds agree? Shall I give up the friend I have valu'd and tried, If he kneel not before the same altar with me! From the heretic girl of my soul shall I fly, To seek somewhere else a more orthodox kiss No! perish the hearts and the laws that try Truth, valour, or love, by a standard like this! Sublime was the warning. Air-The Black Joke. Sublime was the warning which liberty spoke, Into life and revenge from the conqueror's chain! Oh, liberty, let not this spirit have rest Till it move, like a breeze, o'er the waves of the west; Give the light of your look to each sorrowing spot, Nor, oh! be the shamrock of Erin forgot, While you add to your garland the olive of Spain! If the fame of our fathers, bequeath'd with their rights, Give to country its charm, and to home its delights; If deceit be a wound, and suspicion a stain; Then, ye men of Iberia! our cause is the same- For the shamrock of Erin and olive of Spain! Ye Blakes and O'Donnels, whose fathers resign'd The green hills of their youth, among strangers to find That repose which, at home, they had sigh'd for in vain, Breathe a hope that the magical flame, which you light, God prosper the cause! oh! it cannot but thrive, Its devotion to feel and its rights to maintain : |