FAREWELL!—but whenever you welcome the hour
That awakens the night-song of mirth in your bower,
Then think of the friend that once welcomed it too,
And forgot his own griefs, to be happy with you.
His griefs may return—not a hope may remain
Of the few that have brightened his pathway of pain—
But he ne’er can forget the short vision that threw...
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From “The Fire-Worshippers”
FAREWELL,—farewell to thee, Araby’s daughter!
(Thus warbled a Peri beneath the dark sea;)
No pearl ever lay under Oman’s green water
More pure in its shell than thy spirit in thee.O, fair as the sea-flower close to thee growing,
How light was thy heart till love’s witchery came,
Like the wind of the... -
From “Irish Melodies”
’T IS the last rose of summer,
Left blooming alone;
All her lovely companions
Are faded and gone;
No flower of her kindred,
No rosebud, is nigh
To reflect back her blushes,
Or give sigh for sigh!I ’ll not leave thee, thou lone one!
To pine on the stem;
Since the lovely are... -
Oft in the stilly night,
Ere slumber’s chain has bound me,
Fond Memory brings the light
Of other days around me:
The smiles, the tears,
Of boyhood’s years,
The words of love then spoken;
The eyes that shone,
Now dimmed and gone,
The cheerful hearts now broken.
Thus in the stilly night,... -
Those evening bells! those evening bells!
How many a tale their music tells
Of youth, and home, and that sweet time
When last I heard their soothing chime!Those joyous hours are passed away;
And many a heart that then was gay
Within the tomb now darkly dwells,
And hears no more those evening bells.And so ’t will be when I am...
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From “The Light of the Harem”
WHO has not heard of the Vale of Cashmere,
With its roses the brightest that earth ever gave,
Its temples, and grottoes, and fountains as clear
As the love-lighted eyes that hang over their wave?O, to see it at sunset,—when warm o’er the lake
Its splendor at parting a summer eve throws,
Like a bride,... -
The Harp that once through Tara’s halls
The soul of music shed,
Now hangs as mute on Tara’s walls
As if that soul were fled.
So sleeps the pride of former days,
So glory’s thrill is o’er,
And hearts that once beat high for praise
Now feel that pulse no more!No more to chiefs and ladies bright
The harp of Tara... -
As by the shore, at break of day,
A vanquished chief expiring lay,
Upon the sands, with broken sword,
He traced his farewell to the free;
And there the last unfinished word
He dying wrote, was “Liberty!”At night a sea-bird shrieked the knell
Of him who thus for freedom fell:
The words he wrote, ere evening came,
... -
From “The Fire-Worshippers”
“HOW sweetly,” said the trembling maid,
Of her own gentle voice afraid,
So long had they in silence stood,
Looking upon that moonlight flood,—
“How sweetly does the moonbeam smile
To-night upon yon leafy isle!
Oft in my fancy’s wanderings,
I ’ve wished that little isle had wings,
And we, within... -
Robert Emmet
O, BREATHE not his name! let it sleep in the shade,
Where cold and unhonored his relics are laid;
Sad, silent, and dark be the tears that we shed,
As the night-dew that falls on the grave o’er his head.But the night-dew that falls, though in silence it weeps,
Shall brighten with verdure the grave where he sleeps;
And the...