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If deceit be a wound and suspicion a stain-
Then, ye men of IBERIA! our cause is the same;
And oh may his tomb want a tear and a name,
Who would ask for a nobler, a holier death,
Than to turn his last sigh into victory's breath

For the Shamrock of ERIN and Olive of SPAIN !

III.

Ye BLAKES and O'DONNELS, whose fathers resign'd
The green hills of their youth, among strangers to find
That repose which at home they had sigh'd for in vain,
Join, join in our hope that the flame, which you light,
May be felt yet in ERIN, as calm and as bright,
And forgive even ALBION, while blushing she draws,
Like a truant, her sword, in the long-slighted cause
Of the Shamrock of ERIN and Olive of SPAIN!

IV.

God prosper the cause!-oh! it cannot but thrive,
While the pulse of one patriot heart is alive,

Its devotion to feel, and its rights to maintain ;
Then how sainted by sorrow its martyrs will die!
The finger of Glory shall point where they lie,
While, far from the footstep of coward or slave,
The young Spirit of Freedom shall shelter their grave,
Beneath Shamrocks of ERIN and Olives of SPAIN.

BELIEVE ME, IF ALL THOSE ENDEARING
YOUNG CHARMS.

AIR.-My Lodging is on the cold Ground.

I.

BELIEVE me, if all those endearing young charms,
Which I gaze on so fondly to-day,

Were to change by to-morrow, and fleet in my arms,
Like fairy-gifts fading away!

Thou wouldst still be adored, as this moment thou art,

Let thy loveliness fade as it will,

And, around the dear ruin, each wish of my heart
Would entwine itself verdantly still!

II.

It is not while beauty and youth are thine own,
And thy cheeks unprofaned by a tear,

That the fervour and faith of a soul can be known,

To which time will but make thee more dear! Oh! the heart that has truly loved, never forgets, But as truly loves on to the close,

As the sun-flower turns on her god, when he sets,

The same look which she turn'd when he rose !

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In presenting the Third Number of this Work to the Public, POWER begs leave to offer his acknowledgments for the very liberal patronage with which it has been honoured; and to express a hope that the unabated zeal of those who have hitherto so admirably conducted it, will enable him to continue it through many future Numbers with equal spirit, variety, and taste. The stock of popular Melodies is far from being exhausted; and there is still in reserve an abundance of beautiful Airs, which call upon Mr. MOORE, in the language he so well understands, to save them from the oblivion to which they are hastening.

POWER respectfully trusts he will not be thought presumptuous in saying, that he feels proud, as an Irishman, in even the very subordinate share which he can claim, in promoting a Work so creditable to the talents of the Country-a Work, which, from the spirit of nationality it breathes, will do more, he is convinced, towards liberalizing the feelings of society, and producing that brotherhood of sentiment which it is so much our interest to cherish, than could ever be effected by the arguments of wise, but uninteresting, politicians.

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LIKE the bright lamp that shone in KILDARE's holy fane,*
And burn'd through long ages of darkness and storm,
Is the heart that afflictions have come o'er in vain,
Whose spirit outlives them, unfading and warm!
ERIN! oh ERIN! thus bright, through the tears
Of a long night of bondage, thy spirit appears!

II.

The nations have fallen, and thou still art young,

Thy sun is but rising, when others are set;

And, though Slavery's cloud o'er thy morning hath hung,
The full moon of Freedom shall beam round thee yet.
ERIN! oh ERIN! though long in the shade,

Thy star will shine out, when the proudest shall fade!

III.

Unchill'd by the rain, and unwaked by the wind,
The lily lies sleeping through Winter's cold hour,
Till Spring, with a touch, her dark slumber unbind,
And daylight and liberty bless the young flower.†
ERIN! oh ERIN! thy winter is past,

And the hope that lived through it shall blossom at last.

* The inextinguishable fire of St. Bridget, at Kildare, which Giraldus mentions, "Apud Kildariam, occurrit Ignis Sanctæ Brigidæ, quem inextinguibilem vocant; non quod extingui non possit, sed quod tam solicitè moniales et sanctæ mulieres ignem, suppetente materia, fovent et nutriunt ut à tempore virginis per tot annorum curricula semper mansit inextinctus." -Girald. Camb. de Mirabil. Hibern. Dis. 2, c. 34.

+ Mrs. H. Tighe, in her exquisite lines on the lily, has applied this image to a still more important subject.

DRINK TO HER.

AIR.-Heigh oh! my Jackey.
I.

DRINK, to her, who long

Hath waked the poet's sigh; The girl, who gave to song

What gold could never buy. Oh! woman's heart was made For minstrel hands alone; By other fingers play'd,

It yields not half the tone. Then, here's to her, who long Hath waked the poet's sigh, The girl who gave to song What gold could never buy! II.

At Beauty's door of glass

When Wealth and Wit once stood, They ask'd her, "which might pass?" She answer'd," he who could." With golden key Wealth thought To pass-but 'twould not do: While with a diamond brought, Which cut his bright way through! So here's to her, who long

Hath waked the poet's sigh,

The girl who gave to song

What gold could never buy!

III.

The love that seeks a home

Where wealth or grandeur shines,

Is like the gloomy gnome

That dwells in dark gold mines.

But oh! the poet's love

Can boast a brighter sphere;

Its native home's above,

Though woman keeps it here!
Then drink to her, who long
Hath waked the poet's sigh,
The girl who gave to song
What gold could never buy!

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