Society, friendship, and love,
Divinely bestow'd upon man,
Oh, had I the wings of a dove,
How soon would I taste you again!
My sorrows I then might assuage
In the ways of religion and truth,
Might learn from the wisdom of age,
And be cheer'd by the sallies of youth.

IV.

Religion what treasure untold
Resides in that heavenly word!
More precious than silver and gold,
Or all that this earth can afford.
But the toll of the summoning bell
These valleys and rocks never heard,
Ne'er sigh'd at the sound of a knell,
Or smil'd when a sabbath appear'd.

V.

Ye winds, that have made me your sport,
Convey to this desolate shore,
Some cordial endearing report

Of a land I shall visit no more;
My friends, do they now and then send
A wish or a thought after me?

O tell me I yet have a friend,
Though a friend I am never to see,

VI.

How fleet is a glance of the mind!
Compar'd with the speed of its flight,
The tempest itself lags behind,

And the swift winged arrows of light,
When I think of my own native land,
In a moment I seem to be there;
But, alas recollection at hand
Soon hurries me back to despair.

VII.

But the sea-
a-fowl is gone to her nest,
The beast is laid down in his lair,
Ev'n here is a season of rest,

And I to my cabin repair.
There's mercy in every place;
And mercy, encouraging thought!
Gives even affliction a grace,

And reconciles man to his lot.

Printed by J. Jones, 40, S. Great George's-st. Dublin.