Oh for the swords of former time!

Where a leaf never dies in the still blooming bowers,And the bee banquets on through a whole year of flowers;Where the sun loves to pauseWith so fond a delay,That the night only drawsA thin veil o’er the day;Where simply to feel that we breathe, that we live,Is worth the best joy that life elsewhere can…

Who, could he burstHis bonds at first,Would pine beneath them slowly?What soul, whose wrongs degrade it,Would wait till time decay’d it,When thus its wingAt once may springTo the throne of Him who made it?Farewell, Erin, — farewell, all,Who live to weep our fall!Less dear the laurel growing,Alive, untouch’d and blowing,Than that whose braidIs pluckd to…

As Love and Valour wander’d,With Wit, the sprite,Whose quiver brightA thousand arrows squander’d;Where’er they pass,A triple grassShoots up, with dew-drops streaming,As softly greenAs emeralds seenThrough purest crystal gleaming.Oh the Shamrock, the green, immortal Shamrock!Chosen leafOf Bard and Chief,Old Erin’s native Shamrock!Says Valour, ‘See,They spring for me,Those leafy gems of morning!’ —Says Love, ‘No, no,For me…

Nor expect that the heart-beaming smile of to-nightWill return with to-morrow to brighten my brow.No: — life is a waste of wearisome hours,Which seldom the rose of enjoyment adorns;And the heart that is soonest awake to the flowers,Is always the first to be touch’d by the thorns.But send round the bowl, and be happy awhile…

The girl who gave to songWhat gold could never buy.Oh! woman’s heart was madeFor minstrel hands alone;By other fingers play’d,It yields not half the tone.Then here’s to her who longHath waked the poet’s sigh,The girl who gave to songWhat gold could never buy.At Beauty’s door of glass,When Wealth and Wit once stood,They ask’d her, ‘which…

Which then we hid not;We saw it in each other’s eye,And wish’d in every broken sighTo speak, but did not!She felt my lips’ impassion’d touch;‘Twas the first time I dar’d so much,And yet, she chid not;But whisper’d o’er my burning brow,‘Oh! do you doubt I love you now?’Sweet soul! I did not!Warmly I felt her…