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THE

TRIPLE-EDEN.

Adare! Askeaton! and Kilmallock hail! Cathedral monuments of INNISFAIL;

In hoary ruins still you nobly stand:
Relics of grandeur in our native land!
To tell of all our glory, all our fame,
When nations wonder'd at our early name:
For arts and sciences, for love and might,
And honor pure as Sol's sublimest light:
How sad is recollection as it strays,
To Erin's greatness in departed days?
Ere foreign foes and bigot strangers came,
To blast the pages of our ancient fame:'

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To question what we did, or what we were dri

To You in sacred duty we appeal,

Our claims to early merit to reveal:

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With you the eyes of admiration find,

Whatever art has happily design'd;

Where human efforts with the hand of taste,

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Have classic marble beautifully grac'd

Where all of life, unless the breathing heart,

Appears existing from the sculptor'swart

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Then let the bigot scoff, the slave revile,
The ancient splendour of our saintly Isle;
Their vain, their spurious charges we despise,
While your proud towers o'er their basis rise!
And in majestic dignity proclaim,

Our early days, were days of fav'rite fame.
Produce the Bards that round your mossy spires,
To heav'nly notes attan'd their country's lyres:-

Produce the Heroes you have bravely taught,

In foreign fields to fight when freedom fought;
For natures charter in that gen'ral cause,

Where GOD and Man had sanction'd social laws:-
Produce the Saints that in your spacious aisles,
Forsook the world and all its busy wiles,

To pass their days in charity and faith,
Aspire to Heav'n, and pray for all beneath:-
Produce these sacred names, and then proclaim,
Our ancient days, were days of favour'd fame :-

When music, virtue, chivalry and art,
Bespoke refinement in the Irish heart.

Altho' in equal pride and pomp you stand,
Adare, peculiar notice must command:

Where two great temples with devoted care, !

From your great ruins spring, employ'd for pray'r,

And souls of different faith in hope repair,

To breathe their thoughts in holiness and love,

And meet a lasting recompense above.

THE ENTREATY.

TO JUSTIN M'CARTY, Esq. Carrignavar, County Cork.

The BARD who experienc'd your bounty before, Lays hold on that claim, to address you once more; To paint in his Couplets without fuss or fustain, Those peerless prime virtues, that centre in JUSTIN; Such virtues benignant as shine in each feature, And "hold up the mirror exactly to Nature.".. Again, my poor Pegasus, stiffly refuses, MIT To trot, or to amble henceforth for the MUSES; Hi bobal and wl bol vom 24 Confest as an object of Fortune's mis-carving,

a sad lɔ wide at nola P'u pre 1 J Fam'd CARRIGNAVAR has long kept her from starving

Yes, JUSTIN I say! to the MUSE is a friend,
Her 'plaint will accept, and his favors extend:
And should he recover that much-harrass'd Mare,
I'd write in content and I'd laugh away care;
And crown; that dear Name which the world must revere,
With blessings eternal and happiness here. 20

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THE VISIT.

Lines on CORCOMROE ABBEY, County Clare.

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Its ruins are splendid, majestic and grand,

In the richness of art, and refinement of taste; "Till Nature's last effort she bids them to stand,

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Tho' its grandeur is mould'ring and beauty defac❜d.

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The moss-knitted Ivy has shaded its walls;

It never will darken the glow of the mind;

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That now with a grateful reflection recalls,

By whom was its structure and graces design'd.

Should these who would slander our green-clothed Isle, And name us Barbarians, but pause on the spot; They would own the designers of such a grand pile, Of Heroes and Sages should ne'er be forgot.

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