388
SELF-INSTKUCTION
IN
IRISH.
II.
Like thee doth
our nation lie
conquer'd
and broken,
And fall'n from
her head is the
once royal crown
;
In her streets,
in her halls.
Desolation hath
spoken.
And,
"
wliile it
is
day
yet,
her sun
hath
gone
down
!"
III.
Like
thine doth her exile, 'mid dreams
of returning,
Die far from
the hom'e it were life to
behold
—
Like
thine do her sons, in the
day of their mourning,
Remember the
bright things that
bless'd them
of
old.
IV.
Ah ! well may
we call
her,
like
thee,
"
The Forsaken,"
Her
boldest are
vanquished,
her proudest are
slaves
;
And the harps
of her
minstrels, when
gayest they waken,
Have breathings
as sad as the wind over graves.
V.
Yet
hadst
thou thy vengeance
—
yet came there the
morrow,
That
shines
out at last on the longest
dark
night,
When the
sceptre
that smote thee
with
slavery
and
sorrow
"Was shiver'd
at
once,
hke
a reed
in thy sight
!
VI.
When that cup, which for
others the proud Golden City
Had brimm'd
full of bitterness, di-ench'd her own lips.
And the world she had trampled
on, heard without
pity
The
howl in her halls,
and the cry from
her ships
!
VII.
When the curse Heaven keeps for the haughty came
over
Her
merchants rapacious, her rulers
unjust,
And
—
a ruin,
at last,
for
the
eai-th-worm to cover
—
"
The
Lady
of
Kingdoms" lay low in the
dust
!
THE
CELTIC
TONGUE.
[These
lines, taken from a
beautiful piece which appeared
in
The
Nation
of
the Ist
of
November, 1862,
are
very soul-inspiring, full of historic
truth,
and of power.
The writer
is
unknown to the
author of this volume].
I.
Ay,
build ye
up the Celtic
tongue above
0'Curn,''s grave
;
Speed
the good
work,
ye
patriot souls who
long your land
to save.
Who
long to
light the flame
again on
Freedom's altar dead,
Wlio long to call
the glories l)ack from
hapless Erin fled,
Wlio long
to gem
her sadden'd
brow
with queenly wreath
again.
And raise a wanior people
up,
a
Nation
in her train.
Speed
then
the work
; be
scorn our lot, our ancient pride is
flown.
If midst
the nations
on
the
earth we stand
in shame
alone.