Oh, what would have been young Beauty's doom,
Without a bard to fix her bloom?

They tell us, in the moon's bright round,
Things lost in this dark world are found;

So charms, on earth long pass'd and gone,
In the poet's lay live on.-

Would ye have smiles that ne'er grow dim?

You've only to give them all to him,
Who, with but a touch of Fancy's wand,

Can lend them life, this life beyond,
And fix them high, in Poesy's sky,—
Young stars that never die!

Then, welcome the bard where'er he comes,
For, though he hath countless airy homes,
To which his wing excursive roves,

Yet still, from time to time, he loves
To light upon earth and find such cheer
As brightens our banquet here.

No matter how far, how fleet he flies,
You've only to light up kind young eyes,
Such signal-fires as here are given,-
And down he'll drop from Fancy's heaven,
The minute such call to love or mirth
Proclaims he's wanting on earth!

234

Sing—Sing—Music was given.

Sing-sing-Music was given,

To brighten the gay, and kindle the loving; Souls here, like planets in Heaven,

By harmony's laws alone are kept moving. Beauty may boast of her eyes and her cheeks,

But Love from the lips his true archery wings; And she, who but feathers the dart when she speaks, At once sends it home to the heart when she sings. Then sing-sing-Music was given,

To brighten the gay, and kindle the loving; Souls here, like planets in Heaven,

By harmony's laws alone are kept moving.

When Love, rock'd by his mother,

Lay sleeping as calm as slumber could make him, "Hush, hush," said Venus, "no other

"Sweet voice but his own is worthy to wake him." Dreaming of music he slumber'd the while

Till faint from his lip a soft melody broke, And Venus, enchanted, look'd on with a smile, While Love to his own sweet singing awoke. Then sing-sing-Music was given,

To brighten the gay, and kindle the loving; Souls here, like planets in Heaven,

By harmony's laws alone are kept moving.

RICHES

Song of Innisfail.

They came from a land beyond the sea,

And now o'er the western main
Set sail, in their good ships, gallantly,
From the sunny land of Spain.

"Oh, where's the Isle we've seen in dreams,
"Our destin'd home or grave?" "6
Thus sung they as, by the morning's beams,
They swept the Atlantic wave.

And, lo, where afar o'er ocean shines
A sparkle of radiant green,

As though in that deep lay emerald mines, Whose light through the wave was seen. "Tis Innisfail-'t is Innisfail!"""

Rings o'er the echoing sea;

While, bending to heav'n, the warriors hail That home of the brave and free.

Then turn'd they unto the Eastern wave,
Where now their Day-God's eye

A look of such sunny omen gave
As lighted up sea and sky.