And the garters at thy knee,

Charloch Ban, Charloch Ban,

Joy hung o'er wood and lake,
And the blackbird in the brake,

Sung far sweeter for thy sake,

Charloch Ban, Charloch Ban.

Joy had a sweeter beam,

There was gladness in the stream,

O the world was a' a dream,

Charloch Ban, Charloch Ban.

Now winds are howling loud,
Through the weary winter's cloud,

And the world is a' a shroud,

Charloch Ban, Charloch Ban.

GENIUS.

Why Genius, are thy favorites all
The weary sons of woe?

Why does the cup they have to drink,

With bitterness o'erflow?

Some perish by the fire within,
Some by the poisoned cup,
Some toiling for a thankless world,
Till famine eats them up.

Tell me, great spirit, why the fools
And knaves are richly fed?
And want, and woe, and misery,

Are for the star crowned head?

E'en while I spake-a voice replied"This wretched race is mine ;

Ah! doubly wretched! for they wear The stamp of the divine.

"For rags, and poverty, and pain, And all unseemly things;

Are but the tools, with which I make My spiritual kings.

The tools are time's and pass away,

Upon her mighty river;

But the heart throbs they wake, remain To thrill the world for ever.

"They are the literary saints, The pioneers of mind;

Whose toil enricheth not themselves,

But those they leave behind. They are the heralds of the dawn,

They are the sacred band;

And they must bear the scorn of those,

Who do not understand.

"I cast them rudely on the world, Amid its dross and scum ;

So that there may be less of such,

Through all the time to come. And theirs the keenest sense of right, The deepest taste of wrong;

That they may make injustice feel,
Truth's terrible and strong.

"Of human weakness and its strength, They are the called to speak;

For by their weakness they are strong,
And by their strength they're weak.
They are the sum of all the world,
By them it feels and thinks;
The eye by which it sees, the wing
On which it soars or sinks.

"The heaven of purity and peace,
The hell of sin and shame ;
Have wakened in their sleepless souls,
A never-dying flame-

That over every land and sea,

Shall shed its holy light;

That there may be no living soul,
Left groping in the night.

"The banner of Humanity,

Into the breach they bear, They are the high heroic hearts,

The souls that do and dare.

They rule the mighty waves of thought,

No potentate can stem;

And kings and kingdoms are set up,

Or overthrown by them.

"And thus their struggles for the right, Their battles with the wrong;

The heavings of their mighty hearts,

Leap into living song.

For rags, and poverty, and pain,

And all unseemly things,

Are but the tools with which I make

My spiritual kings."