Anna Maria Hall

“ The friend of my childhood, the hope of my youth,
Whose heart is all pure, and whose words are all truth,
Oh! sweet are the sweet words he whispers to me,
My Aileen, mavourneen, a cuishla machree. ”

“ But they made her as proud as a young rose in spring,
⁠And they harden'd her heart against all sorts of men.
Patrick came with his simper, and Dermot with sighs,
⁠And Jerry with jokes, and with blarney came Mike,
And Darby with laughter in both his bright eyes,
⁠And a crowd of the boys bade her take which she like;
But she shunn'd them, the tender, wild, simple, and sage,
⁠And lived by herself while her fairy gift fades;
And this was the prayer of her lonely old age,
⁠"Heaven keep from such fairy gifts all merry maids!" ”

“ A century old the youngest of them, made
⁠Hollow and mournful music in the breeze;
The pale moon shone upon a little nook
⁠Long toil had cleared, where grew the grass and corn,
But thin and poor, and wearing not the look
⁠Of ruddy health, of hope and labour born.
He wore the skins of wolves his shot had killed—
⁠Tens of the thousands that, by night and day,
Devoured his kine, and trampled where be tilled,
⁠Till fear and want had worn his strength away.
Even the low hut—poor shelter!—while he slept,
⁠Shook in the earthquake, or the storm, or rain ”

“ At once my tongue was loosed, my limbs were free,
⁠I burst the casement, and I madly spoke,
And my boy started, wildly looked on me
⁠And shriek'd so fearfully, that I awoke—
To hear the ocean's never varied sound
And the wild sea-mew, wheeling round and round—
Where hope, the sunlight of the soul, ne'er beams—
A broken-hearted exile, even in dreams! ”

“ Thanks for a pictured store of thought!
Thus Art works out her great design,
Shapes the rough ore of Nature's mine;
⁠Gives Beauty a perpetual youth;
⁠Bids Virtue teach and never tire;
⁠Shows that a halo shines round Truth ”

“ As one who in his vigour might rejoice;
⁠Yet, as the swift breeze bore the ship along,
A manly, but a sad and tremulous, voice,
⁠Was heard to breathe these bitter thoughts in song.
⁠Away!—the wind is from the shore—
⁠O'er the chill waves, away, away!—
⁠Even here we feel and dread once more
⁠The power all weaker things obey,
⁠And vainly strive to answer "Nay!"
⁠Yet winds and waves will not deceive—
⁠Nor gently speak the sounds that wrong;
⁠If falsehood rests with those we leave,
⁠To them let evil thoughts belong. ”

“ Years of success have taught thee this,—
Dear wife, that duty leads to bliss;
'Tis thine to show to those who toil,
⁠That love can make all labour light;
That fame and favour may not spoil
⁠The mind that thinks and acts aright! ”

“ A night of storm and darkness o'er—and now
⁠The sun awoke, scattered the clouds, and shone.
Was it an aged man who stood alone?—
⁠White hair, and wrinkled brow, and bending frame,
Are signs that age, but only age, may own ”

“ He had a winning softness when he would;
⁠Yet sometimes he was like the shower that sheds
Apparent wrath while it produces good:
⁠And bends young buds to bid them raise their heads,
That with more profit they may hail the sun ”

“ If you can see her heart and mind;
⁠Go thene my avourneen slane ariste.
Oh! bring me to my Norah Fay,
For hours are days when she's away
The sun looks dark and sweet birds say,
⁠Go thene my avourneen slane ariste. ”

“ And though he has asked her, when nobody's by,
⁠She dare not say "Yes," and she cannot say "No."
⁠She knows what she hears is the blarney,
⁠The blarney, the blarney,
⁠Oh! a perilous thing is the blarney!
But people get used to a perilous thing,
⁠And fancy the sweet words of lovers are true ”