From “The Bell-Founder”
AH! little they know of true happiness, they whom satiety fills,
Who, flung on the rich breast of luxury, eat of the rankness that kills.
Ah! little they know of the blessedness toil-purchased slumber enjoys
Who, stretched on the hard rack of indolence, taste of the sleep that destroys:
Nothing to hope for, or labor for; nothing to...
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AH! my heart is weary waiting,
Waiting for the May,—
Waiting for the pleasant rambles
Where the fragrant hawthorn-brambles,
With the woodbine alternating,
Scent the dewy way.
Ah! my heart is weary waiting,
Waiting for the May.Ah! my heart is sick with longing,
Longing for the May,—
... -
Bless the dear old verdant land!
Brother, wert thou born of it?
As thy shadow life doth stand
Twining round its rosy band,
Did an Irish mother’s hand
Guide thee in the morn of it?
Did a father’s first command
Teach thee love or scorn of it?Thou who tread’st its fertile breast,
Dost thou feel a glow for it?... -
[1847]
they are dying! they are dying! where the golden corn is growing;
They are dying! they are dying! where the crowded herds are lowing:
They are gasping for existence where the streams of life are flowing,
And they perish of the plague where the breeze of health is blowing!God of justice! God of power!
Do we dream?...