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OF

VOLUME SECOND.

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A little spirit slumbers here, .............
A moment pause-ye British fair,
Alas! I am an orphan boy, ...
Alas! they had been friends in youth,
And is it in the flight of threescore years?
At summer eve, when heaven's aërial bow,
Away! thou dying saint, away!
Aye-down to the dust with them, slaves as they are, .......
Be it a weakness, it deserves some praise,
Be patient yet, my soul, thou hast not long,
Behold the slowly-opening bud-the infant on the knee,
Bells toll for peasants, and we heed them not,
Blest opening of another year, .........
Calm and warm is the summer sky, ..............
Calm on the bosom of thy God,
Calm was the eve, and cooling was the gale,
Can I forget our childish days?

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Cease here longer to detain me,
Child, amidst the flowers that play, ·
Cold, cold lies the sod on a heart once so warm, ....................................
Darwent! what scenes thy wandering waves behold, ..........

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Day faded from the hill and wool,
Earth does not bear another wretch,
Ere on my bed my limbs I lay,
Farewell! but whenever you welcome the hour,
Farewell! for I have schooled my heart,
Fond, fluttering insect, cease to urge thy fate, ........
Friendship! I thought thee once a pleasing thing,
God of my life, and author of my days, ..........................
Gone from her cheek is the summer bloom,
Hail to this teeming stage of strife,
Hark, how the church-bell's thundering harmony,
Hark, what I tell to thee,

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Has sorrow thy young days shaded?
Hast thou a charm to stay the morning star,
He lives, who lives to God alone,
He who hath bent him o'er the dead,
His soul was overcharged with grief, .......................... 168

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His sword and plume are on his pall,
How sweet upon my slumbers break,
I cannot weep! I dare not pray!

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I cannot weep, yet I can feel, .......................................... .............k

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I hear thee, O thou rustling stream! thou'rt from my native

dell, I must tune up my harp's broken string,

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I saw her in the morn of life-the summer of her years,
I saw thy form in youthful prime,
I sigh, and lament me in vain,
I stood within a dungeon's wall,
If I had thought thou could'st have died,
If sorrow's holiest tears could bring,
If thou would'st view fair Melrose aright,
In all my wanderings round this world of care, .......................................
In parting, perhaps we are breaking a link, ....... (..............................
Is thy face like thy Mother's? my fair child!

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It is an easy task, for hearts at rest,
It is not the tear at this moment shed,
Joy is a fruit that will not grow,
Last of a high and noble name, .........................
Lochiel! Lochiel! beware of the day,
Me let the tender office long engage,
My native land,-land of my heart!
Nay, tell me not of lordly halls,
Nay, William, nay, not so; the changeful year, .................................. ́· 118
Not a leaf of the tree which stood near me was stirred,

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Not yet, frail flower! thy charms unclose,

Now is the time completed,

O child of sorrow, be it thine to know,

O! land of the Godly, how lone and deserted! ............
On Linden, when the sun was low,

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O thou vast ocean! ever-sounding sea!
Oft have I seen yon solitary man,
Oh! banquet not in these shining bowers,
Oh! brighter than the brightest star,
Ob, for the swords of former time,
Oh, Lady! breathe no sigh for those,
Oh, man! before the feverish brain,
Oh! Mariamne! now for thee,
Oh my love has an eye of the softest blue,
Oh say not that my heart is cold,
Our fathers,-where are they? and where, ............................................
Pale evening star! pale evening star!
Shall Britain, where the soul of freedom reigns, .........................
Shall the harp then be silent, when he who first gave,
Silent and sad the Minstrel sat,

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Star of the brave! whose beam hath shed,
Stranger, if peace delights your cultured mind,
Stricken of Thee, O Lord! I mourn,
Sweet flowers! that, from your humble beds,
Sweet scented flower! who art wont to bloom,
The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold,
The bell had tolled the midnight hour,
The boatswain's shrill whistle piped all hands ahoy,
The firefly's lamp is on the air,
The glory of evening was spread through the west,
The good man dies-it grieves uSy v................................................................
The heavens are cloudless, the winds are asleep,
The isles of Greece, the isles of Greece!
The last sight which she saw was Juan's gore,..
The minstrel boy to the war is gone, .............................. ********
The mist is on the mountain,
The rose had been washed (just washed in a shower,) ................. 164
The sailor sighs as sinks his native shore,
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The summer winds sing lullaby, ********* Ä................................................. 157
Then whilst on the waters I mutely gaze, don .......................................`
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There's a bower of roses by Bendemeer's stream, .......... 116

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There is a mystic thread of life,

There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is a state serenely blest,

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There is a world we have not seen,
There is an hour of peaceful rest,
There was a sound of revelry by night,
They wept those aged patriots wept,
They who have marked the blooming rose,
This world is all a fleeting show,
Those few pale autumn flowers,
Thou lingering star, with lessening ray,
Through sorrow's night and danger's path,
Through thy battlements, Newstead, the hollow winds whistle,
'Tis not the loss of love's assurance, ........................................................
To honour those who gave us birth,

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To mark the sufferings of the babe,

'Twas a dread vision,
'Twas whispered in heaven, and muttered in hell,
Unfading hope! when life's last embers burn,
We do not curse thee, Waterloo,
We met-we gazed-I saw and sighed,
We'll find relief in sense of deep enduring,
When death shall chill this aged heart,
When gathering clouds around I view,
When I am dead, no pageant train,
When I view thy proud trophies of glory long past,
When some proud son of man returns to earth,

When the awakened soul receives,

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Who is the honest man?
Whoe'er, like me, with trembling anguish, brings,
Why dost thou weep, O gentle Ladye?
With what unknown delight the mother smiled,
Ye hearts with youthful vigour warm, ................................................
Ye warriors of Israel, encompass the wall,
Yon cottager, who weaves at her own door,
• You are old, father William,' the young man cried,

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THE

POETICAL MELANGE.

IN MEMORY OF MR GRATTAN.

SHALL the harp then be silent, when he who first gave To our country a name, is withdrawn from all eyes ? Shall a minstrel of Erin stand mute by the grave,

Where the first-where the last of her patriots lies?

No-faint though the death-song may fall from his lips, Though his harp, like his soul, may with shadows be

crost,

Yet, yet shall it sound, 'mid a nation's eclipse,

And proclaim to the world what a star hath been lost.

VOL. II.

A

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