Gone from her hand and bosom, gone III. And, fix'd on empty space, why burn IV. Bright as the bow that spans the storm When bards high praised her beauty's power, The morats in a golden cup. V. "A hero's bride! this desert bower, It ill befits thy gentle breeding: And wherefore dost thou love this flower This purple flower my tears have nursed- That grew on Connocht Moran's tomb. * Kerne, the plural of Kern, an Irish foot-soldier. In this sense the word is used by Shakspeare. Gainsford, in his Glorys of England, says, "They (the Irish) are desperate in revenge, and their kerne think no man dead until his head be off." + Shieling, a rude cabin or hut. Yellow, dyed from saffron, was the favorite colour of the ancient Irish. When the Irish chieftains came to make terms with Queen Elizabeth's lord-lieutenant, we are told by Sir John Davis, that they came to court in saffron-coloured uniforms. Morat, a drink made of the juice of mulberry mixed with honey. Oh! hearken, stranger, to my voice! VI. "O'Connor's child, I was the bud * The pride of the Irish in ancestry was so great, that one of the O'Neals being told that Barrett of Castlemone had been there only 400 years, he replied, that he hated the clown as if he had come there but yesterday. Tara was the place of assemblage and feasting of the petty princes of Ireland. Very splendid and fabulous descriptions are given by the Irish historians of the pomp and luxury of those meetings. The psaltery of Tara was the grand national register of Ireland. The grand epoch of political eminence in the early history of the Irish is the reign of their great and favourite monarch, Ollam Fodlah, who reigned, according to Keating, about 950 years before the Christian era. Under him was instituted the great Fes at Tara, which it is pretended was a triennial convention of the states, or a parliament; the members of which were the Druids, and other learned men, who represented the people in that assembly. Very minute accounts are given by Irish annalists of the magnificence and order of these entertainments; from which, if credible, we might collect the earliest traces of heraldry that occur in history. To preserve order and regularity in the great number and variety of the members who met on such occasions, the Irish historians inform us, that when the banquet was ready to be served up, the shield-bearers of the princes, and other members of the convention, delivered in their shields and targets, which were readily distinguished by the coats of arms emblazoned upon them. These were arranged by the grand marshal and principal herald, and hung upon the walls on the right side of the table: and, upon entering the apartments, each member took his seat under his respective shield or target, withont the slightest disturbance. The concluding days of the meeting, it is allowed by the Irish antiquaries, were spent in very free excess of conviviality; but the first six, they say, were devoted to the examination and settlement of the annals of the kingdom. These were publicly rehearsed. When they had passed the approbation of the assembly, they were transcribed into the authentic chronicles of the nation, which was called the Register, or Psalter of Tara. Col. Vallancey gives a translation of an old Irish fragment, found in Trinity-college, Dublin, in which the palace of the above assembly is thus described as it existed in the reign of Cormac : "In the reign of Cormac, the palace of Tara was nine hundred feet square; the diameter of the surrounding rath, seven dice or casts of a dart; it con Witness their Eath's victorious brand,* VII. "Ah, brothers! what did it avail, VIII. "At bleating of the wild watch-fold, Our steeds are fasten'd to the tree. tained one hundred and fifty apartments; one hundred and fifty dormitories, or sleeping-rooms for guards, and sixty men in each: the height was twenty-seven cubits; there were one hundred and fifty common non drinking-horns, twelve doors, and one thousand guests daily, besides princes, orators, men of science, engravers of gold and silver, carvers, modelers, and nobles. The Irish description of the banqueting-hall is thus translated: twelve stalls or divisions in each wing; sixteen attendants on each side, and two to each table; one hundred guests in all.' • Vide infra. Come far from Castle-Connor's clans- And build thy hut, and bring thee home IX. "And fast and far, before the star Χ. "When all was hush'd, at even-tide Spare-spare him-Brazil-Desmond fierce! + The house of O'Connor had a right to boast of And every hand that dealt the blow Though ultimately conquered by the English under Yes, when his moanings died away, De Bourgo, the O'Connors had also humbled the pride Their iron hands had dug the clay, of that name on a memorable occasion: viz., when And o'er his burial-turf they trod, Waiter De Bourgo, an ancestor of that De Bourgo And I beheld-Oh God! Oh God! who won the battle of Athunree, had become so inso- His life-blood oozing from the sod! lent as to make excessive demands upon the territories of Connaught, and to bid defiance to all the rights and properties reserved by the Irish chiefs, Aeth O'Connor, a near descendant of the famous Cathal, surnamed of the bloody hand, rose against the usurper, and defeated the English so severely, that their general died of chagrin after the battle. The month of May is to this day called Mi Beal tiennie, i. e. the month of Beal's fire, in the original language of Ireland, and hence I believe the name of the Beltan festival in the Highlands. These fires were lighted on the summits of mountains (the Irish anti * The clarshech, or harp, the principal musical instrument of the Hibernian bards, does not appear to be of Irish origin, nor indigenous to any of the British islands. The Britons undoubtedly were not acquainted with it during the residence of the Romans in their country, as on all their coins, on which musical instruments are represented, we see only the Roman lyre, and not the British teylin, or harp. + Bawn, from the Teutonic Bawen-to construct and secure with branches of trees, was so called because quaries say) in honour of the sun; and are supposed, the primitive Celtic fortification was made by digging )by those conjecturing gentlemen, to prove the origin a ditch, throwing up a rampart, and on the latter of the Irish from some nation who worshipped Baal or fixing stakes, which were interlaced with boughs of Belus. Many hills in Ireland still retain the name of trees. This word is used by Spenser; but it is inacOnce Greine, i. e. the hill of the sun; and on all are to curately called by Mr. Todd, his annotator, an emibe seen the ruins of Druidical altars. nence. ΧΙ. "Warm in his death-wounds sepulchred, XII. "But Heaven, at last, my soul's eclipse Thrice in the east a war-drum beat- XIII. "And go! (I cried) the combat seek, O stranger! by my country's loss! *The Irish lamentation for the dead. + If the wrath which I have ascribed to the heroine of this little piece should seem to exhibit her character as too unnaturally stript of patriotic and domestic affections, I must beg leave to plead the authority of Corneille in the representation of a similar passion: I allude to the denunciation of Camille, in the tragedy XIV. "They would have cross'd themselves, all mute They would have pray'd to burst the spell; But at the stamping of my foot Each hand down powerless fell! And go to Athunree!'* I cried, 'High lift the banner of your pride! "O Ciel! qui vit jamais une pareille rage: At the mention of Rome, Camille breaks out into this apostrophe: "Rome, l'unique objet de mon ressentiment! * In the reign of Edward the Second, the Irish presented to Pope John the Twenty-Second a memorial of their sufferings under the English, of which the language exhibits all the strength of despair.-"Ever since the English (say they) first appeared upon our coasts, they entered our territories under a certain specious pretence of charity, and external hypocritical show of religion, endeavouring at the same time, by every artifice malice could suggest, to extirpate us root and branch, and without any other right than that of the strongest; they so far have succeeded by base fradulence and cunning, that they have forced us to quit our fair and ample habitations and inheritances, and to take refuge like wild beasts in the mountains, the woods, and the morasses of the country; nor even can the caverns and dens protect us against their insatiable avarice. They pursue us even into these frightful abodes; endeavouring to dispossess us of the wild uncultivated rocks, and arrogate to themselves the property of every place on which we can stamp the figure of our feet." The greatest effort ever made by the ancient Irish to regain their native independence, was made at the time when they called over the brother of Robert Bruce from Scotland.-William de Bourgo, brother to the Earl of Ulster, and Richard de Bermingham, were sent against the main body of the native insurgents, who were headed rather than commanded by Felim O'Connor. The important battle, which decided the subjection of Ireland, took place on the 10th of August, 1315. It was the bloodiest that ever was fought between the two nations, and continued throughout the whole day, from the rising to the setting sun. The of Horace. When Horace, accompanied by a soldier Irish fought with inferior discipline, but with great bearing the three swords of the Curiatii, meets his enthusiasm. They lost ten thousand men, among sister, and invites her to congratulate him on his vic-whom were twenty-nine chiefs of Connaught. Tratory, she expresses only her grief, which he attributes dition states, that after this terrible day, the O'Connor at first only to her feelings for the loss of her two brothers; but when she bursts forth into reproaches against him as the murderer of her lover, the last of the Curiatii, he exclaims: family, like the Fabian, were so nearly exterminated, that throughout all Connaught not one of the name remained, except Felim's brother, who was capable of bearing arms. Where Blake and mighty Nelson fell, Britannia needs no bulwark, The meteor flag of England Shall yet terrific burn, HOHENLINDEN. ON Linden, when the sun was low, All bloodless lay th' untrodden snow, And dark as winter was the flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly. But Linden saw another sight, By torch and trumpet fast array'd, Each horseman drew his battle-blade, And furious every charger neigh'd, To join the dreadful revelry. YE MARINERS OF ENGLAND. A NAVAL ODE. Yz mariners of England ! Your glorious standard launch again And sweep through the deep, The spirits of your fathers Then shook the hills with thunder riven, But redder yet that light shall glow, On Linden's hills of stained snow, And bloodier yet the torrent flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly. 'Tis morn, but scarce yon level sun Can pierce the war-clouds, rolling dun, Where furious Frank, and fiery Hun, Shout in their sulph'rous canopy. The combat deepens. On, ye brave, Who rush to glory, or the grave! Wave, Munich! all thy banners wave! And charge with all thy chivalry! Few, few, shall part when many meet! EXILE OF ERIN. THERE came to the beach a poor Exile of Erin, The dew on his thin robe was heavy and chill: For his country he sigh'd, when at twilight repairing To wander alone by the wind-beaten hill. Sad is my fate! said the heart-broken stranger, Or cover my harp with the wild-woven flowers, Erin, my country! though sad and forsaken, more. Oh cruel fate! wilt thou never replace me me? Never again shall my brothers embrace me? Where is my cabin door, fast by the wild wood? measure, But rapture and beauty they cannot recall. Yet all its sad recollections suppressing, votion, Erin mavournin-Erin go bragh!* LORD ULLIN'S DAUGHTER. * Ireland my darling,-Ireland for ever. "Now who be ye, would cross Lochgyle This dark and stormy water?" "Oh, I'm the chief of Ulva's isle, And this Lord Ullin's daughter. "And fast before her father's men Three days we've fled together, For should he find us in the glen, My blood would stain the heather. "His horsemen hard behind us ride; Should they our steps discover, Then who will cheer my bonny bride When they have slain her lover ?" Out spoke the hardy Highland wight, "And by my word! the bonny bird In danger shall not tarry; So, though the waves are raging white, I'll row you o'er the ferry." By this the storm grew loud apace, The water-wraith was shrieking ;* And in the scowl of heaven each face Grew dark as they were speaking. But still as wilder blew the wind, And as the night grew drearer, Adown the glen rode armed men, Their trampling sounded nearer. "O haste thee, haste!" the lady cries, "Though tempests round us gather; I'll meet the raging of the skies, But not an angry father." The boat has left a stormy land, And still they row'd amidst the roar For sore dismay'd, through storm and shade, One lovely hand she stretch'd for aid, "Come back! come back!" he cried, in grief, "Across this stormy water; And I'll forgive your Highland chief, My daughter!-O my daughter!" 'Twas vain: the loud waves lash'd the shore, * The evil spirit of the waters. |