So peace instead of death let us bring: With the crews, at England's feet, Now joy, old England, raise! Whilst the wine-cup shines in light! By thy wild and stormy steep, 582. THOMAS MOORE The Young May Moon THE young May moon is beaming, love, Through Morna's grove, 1779-1852 When the drowsy world is dreaming, love! Then awake!-the heavens look bright, my dear, 'Tis never too late for delight, my dear; And the best of all ways To lengthen our days Is to steal a few hours from the night, my dear! Now all the world is sleeping, love, But the Sage, his star-watch keeping, love, And I, whose star Is the eye from that casement peeping, love. Of bodies of light He might happen to take thee for one, my dear! 583. The Irish Peasant to His Mistress THROU HROUGH grief and through danger thy smile hath cheer'd my way, 'Till hope seem'd to bud from each thorn that round me lay; The darker our fortune, the brighter our pure love burn'd, Till shame into glory, till fear into zeal was turn'd: Yes, slave as I was, in thy arms my spirit felt free, And bless'd even the sorrows that made me more dear to thee. Thy rival was honour'd, while thou wert wrong'd and scorn'd Thy crown was of briers, while gold her brows adorn'd; She woo'd me to temples, whilst thou lay'st hid in caves Her friends were all masters, while thine, alas! were slaves Yet cold in the earth, at thy feet, I would rather be Than wed what I loved not, or turn one thought from the They slander thee sorely, who say thy vows are frail— Hadst thou been a false one, thy cheek had look'd less pale They say, too, so long thou hast worn those lingering chains That deep in thy heart they have printed their servile stains O, foul is the slander!-no chain could that soul subdueWhere shineth thy spirit, there Liberty shineth too! 584. The Light of Other Days FT, in the stilly night, OF Ere slumber's chain has bound me, Fond Memory brings the light Of other days around me: The smiles, the tears Of boyhood's years, The words of love then spoken; The eyes that shone, Now dimm'd and gone, The cheerful hearts now broken! Thus, in the stilly night, Ere slumber's chain has bound me, Of other days around me. When I remember all The friends, so link'd together, I've seen around me fall Like leaves in wintry weather, I feel like one Some banquet-hall deserted, Whose lights are fled, Ere slumber's chain has bound me. Sad Memory brings the light Of other days around me. 585. At the Mid Hour of Night T the mid hour of night, when stars are weeping, I fly AT To the lone vale we loved, when life shone warm in thine eye; And I think oft, if spirits can steal from the regions of air To revisit past scenes of delight, thou wilt come to me there, And tell me our love is remember'd even in the sky. Then I sing the wild song it once was rapture to hear, When our voices commingling breathed like one on the ear; And as Echo far off through the vale my sad orison rolls, I think, O my love! 'tis thy voice from the Kingdom of Souls Faintly answering still the notes that once were so dear. EDWARD THURLOW, LORD THURLOW 586. May MAY! queen of blossoms, With what pretty music Shall we charm the hours? Thou hast no need of us, 1781-1829 587. DAY, And many thousand more Thou hast thy mighty herds, EBENEZER ELLIOTT Battle Song AY, like our souls, is fiercely dark; 1781-1849 We sleep no more; the cock crows-hark! They come they come! the knell is rung Wide o'er their march the pomp is flung What collar'd hound of lawless sway, What pension'd slave of Attila, Leads in the rear? Come they from Scythian wilds afar, Wear they the livery of the Czar? |