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10 WHICH ARE ADDED
BY THOMAS MOORE, Esq.
PRINTED AND SOLD BY E. PAUL AND CO.
Remember the glories of Bricn the Brave.
Oh! breathe not his name-let it sleep in the shade. ibid.
When he who adores thee has left but the name.
The harp that once through Tara's halls.
Oh! think not my spirits are always as light.
Though the last glimpse of Erin with sorrow I see. If
Rich and rare were the gems she wore.
As a beam o'er the face of the waters may glow.
There is not in this wide world a valley so sweet..
Oh! haste and leave this sacred isle.
How dear to me the hour when day-light dies.
We may roam through this world like a child at a feast. 24
Come send round the wine and let points of belief.
Sublime was the warning which liberty spoke.
Believe me if all these endearing young charms.
Drink to her who long hath waked the poet's sigh.
Oh! blame not the bard if he fly to the bowers.
While gazing on the Moon's light.
When day-light was yet sleeping under the billow.
Night closed around the Conqueror's way.
Oh! 'tis sweet to think that where'er we rove..
Through grief and through danger.
It is not the tear at this moment shed.
'Tis believed. that this harp that I wake now for thee. 54
Oh! the days are gone, when beauty bright..
Though dark are our sorrows, to-day we'll forget them.
She is far from the land where her young hero sleeps.
Nay, tell me not, dear, that the goblet drowns.
Avenging and bright fall the swift sword of Erin.
What the Bee is to the floweret.
The young May moon is beaming, 1ove.
The Minstrel-boy to the war is gone.
The valley lay smiling before me.
Oh! had we some bright little isle of our own.
You remember Ellen, our hamlet's pride.
I'd mourn the hopes that leave me. .
No, not more welcome the fairy numbers.
When first I met thee, warm and young.
While History's Muse the memorial was keeping.
Come, rest in this bosom, my own stricken deer.
'Tis gone, and for ever, the light we saw breaking.. 109
I saw from the beach, when the morning was shining. 111
Dear Harp of my country! in darkness I found thee! 115
My gentle Harp! once more I waken.
In the morning of life, when its cares are unknown. 120
When cold in the earth lies the friend thou hast loved. 122
Remember thee! yes, while there's life in this heart. 124
Whene'er I see those smiling eyes.
If thou'lt be mine, the treasures of air.
Oh! for the swords of former time.
Ne'er ask the hour- what is it to us.
Sail on, sail on, thou fearless bark.
Yes, sad one of Sion-if closely resembling.
Drink of this cup-you'll find there's a spell in.