Turlough Carolan

“ The birds warble sweet from each feathery spray,
But 'tis night—starless night, o'er our hopes and our
hearts.
All nature's awake!—and will not the fame
Of heroes, your fathers—O'Brien your sire,
Arouse you to glory—to vengeance—or shame? ”

“ The bounteous soil his sons in freedom trod;
With blind and fierce misrule, the spoiler reigns.
And mocks and mars the eternal laws of God.
Outcast in climes remote, his children weep.
Conjuring Him to be our safety's tower ”

“ A hand divine prepares to rend thy chains!
The Mother of the Man-God shall invoke,
The Eternal deal the liberating stroke.
The Scot—the Gael—the rallying thousands come;
The reeking sword half chokes the ravening tomb ”

“ Chorus—My heart—it danced, &c.
The cuckoo's voice is not heard on the gale,
Nor the cry of the hounds in the nutty grove;
Nor the hunter's cheering through the dewy vale,
Since far—far away is the Youth of our love.
Chorus—My heart—it danced, &c. ”

“ Chill the winds are blowing,
Death aloft is going;
Peace or hope seems growing
For our race no more.
Hark the foe is calling,
Fast the woods are falling,
Scenes and sights appalling
Throng our blood-stained shore. ”

“ By treacherous wolves that assailed us;
The race of our mighty is fall'n and uprooted—
Oh weep, for our high hope has failed us.
Rude jargon our sweet native language supplanting;
Mute, mute, shall the harp's thrilling strain be ”

“ And sickens my soul o'er its promise deferred;
The wave with no hearts exultation is shaken.
No cannon's deep voice o'er Ben-Edar1 is heard.
Oh speed to sustain us! oh leave not the crown
Of green Erin the brow of her tyrant to press! ”