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Silent, oh Moyle! be the roar of thy water

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Come, send round the wine, and leave points of belief 44
Sublime was the warning which Liberty spoke.

Believe me, if all those endearing young charms

THIRD NUMBER.

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Like the bright lamp that shone in Kildare's holy fane 51

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Oh! blame not the bard, if he fly to the bowers
While gazing on the moon's light

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When day-light was yet sleeping under the billow
By the hope within us springing

Night clos'd around the conqueror's way

Oh! 'tis sweet to think, that, where'er we roam
Through grief and through danger

When thro' life unblest we rove.

It is not the tear, at this moment shed

"Tis believ'd that this harp, which I wake now.

FOURTH NUMBER.

Oh! the days are gone, when beauty bright

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Tho' dark are our sorrows, to-day we'll forget them. 79

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She is far from the land where her young hero sleeps

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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
Here we dwell, in holiest bowers

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At the mid hour of night, when stars are weeping, I fly 108

One bumper at parting!-tho' many

"Tis the last rose of summer

The young May moon is beaming, love

The minstrel-boy to the war is gone
The valley lay smiling before me

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Oh! had we some bright little isle of our own.
Farewell, but, whenever you welcome the hour
Oh! doubt me not-the season .
You remember Ellen, our hamlet's pride
I'd mourn the hopes that leave me

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No, no not more welcome the fairy numbers

When first I met thee, warm and young
While history's muse the memorial was keeping
The time I've lost in wooing
Where is the slave, so lowly.

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Come, rest in this bosom, my own stricken deer
"Tis gone, and for ever, the light we saw breaking
I saw from the beach, when the morning was shining 149

Fill the bumper fair

Dear harp of my country, in darkness I found thee

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In the morning of life, when its cares are unknown. 163
When cold in the earth lies the friend thou hast lov'd 165

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Remember thee! yes, while there's life in this heart 167

Wreath the bowl.

Whene'er I see those smiling eyes

If thou❜lt be mine, the treasures of air

To ladies' eyes a round, boy

Forget not the field where they perish'd

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They may rail at this life-from the hour I began it. 178
Oh! for the swords of former time

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EIGHTH NUMBER.

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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 .
Down in the valley come meet me to-night
Oh, ye dead! oh, ye dead! whom we know
Of all the fair months, that round the sun
How sweet the answer Echo makes

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Oh banquet not in those shining bowers
The dawning of morn, the daylight's sinking

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Shall the harp then be silent, when he who first gave 204
Oh, the sight entrancing

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Advertisement to the Third Number.

Letter to the Marchioness Dowager of Donegal, pre-

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FIRST NUMBER.

Rich and rare were the gems she wore,
And a bright gold ring on her wand she bore;

B

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