I feel like one Who treads alone Some banquet-hall deserted, Ere slumber's chain has bound me, Sad Memory brings the light Of other days around me. 485 PRO PATRIA MORI WHEN he who adores thee has left but the name Of his fault and his sorrows behind, O! say wilt thou weep, when they darken the fame Yes, weep, and however my foes may condemn, Thy tears shall efface their decree; For, Heaven can witness, though guilty to them, I have been but too faithful to thee. With thee were the dreams of my earliest love; In my last humble prayer to the Spirit above O! blest are the lovers and friends who shall live But the next dearest blessing that Heaven can give 486 THE MEETING OF THE WATERS THERE is not in the wide world a valley so sweet Yet it was not that nature had shed o'er the scene 'Twas that friends, the beloved of my bosom, were near, Sweet vale of Avoca! how calm could I rest In thy bosom of shade, with the friends I love best, Where the storms that we feel in this cold world should cease, And our hearts, like thy waters, be mingled in peace. 487 THE LAST ROSE OF SUMMER 'Tis the last rose of summer To reflect back her blushes, I'll not leave thee, thou lone one! Since the lovely are sleeping, Go, sleep thou with them. Thus kindly I scatter Thy leaves o'er the bed, So soon may I follow, And from Love's shining circle When true hearts lie withered This bleak world alone? 488 THE HARP THAT ONCE Through Tara's Halls 489 THE harp that once through Tara's halls The soul of music shed, Now hangs as mute on Tara's walls As if that soul were fled. So sleeps the pride of former days, So glory's thrill is o'er, And hearts, that once beat high for praise, No more to chiefs and ladies bright The chord alone, that breaks at night, Thus Freedom now so seldom wakes, Is when some heart indignant breaks, A CANADIAN BOAT-SONG FAINTLY as tolls the evening chime Our voices keep tune and our oars keep time. We'll sing at St. Anne's our parting hymn. Row, brothers, row, the stream runs fast, The Rapids are near and the daylight's past! Why should we yet our sail unfurl? There is not a breath the blue wave to curl; 490 Utawa's tide! this trembling moon THE JOURNEY ONWARDS As slow our ship her foamy track When, round the bowl, of vanish'd years And when, in other climes, we meet As travellers oft look back at eve Still faint behind them glowing, So, when the close of pleasure's day 491 THE YOUNG MAY MOON THE young May moon is beaming, love, Through Morna's grove, When the drowsy world is dreaming, love! To lengthen our days Is to steal a few hours from the night, my dear! Now all the world is sleeping, love, More giorious far Is the eye from that casement peeping, love. Or in watching the flight Of bodies of light He might happen to take thee for one, my dear! How sweet the answer Echo makes To Music at night When, roused by lute or horn, she wakes, And far away o'er lawns and lakes Goes answering light! |