The sweetness o' thy artless smile, Thy lips, sure seats o' sweet delight, Wha e'er may haflins see them, O, Maun be a cauldrife, lifeless wight, Should he no try to pree them, O. To me thou ever shalt be dear, Thy image in my heart I'll wear, Contentment's sun my day shall cheer, As lang's thou❜lt be my dearie, O. Nae will-o'-wisp's delusive blaze, While life remains, my dearie, O. The pleasing scenes of nature gay, I felt the love-enslaving power Of thy sweet charms, my dearie, O. R XL. THE MAID OF TRALEE. Young Connel was gallant, young Ellen was fair, O say, can the tongue a soft language impart, For high wav'd the banner, he went o'er the sea, Fair Ellen, sweet Ellen, fair Ellen O'Reilly, That cheek where the roses and lilies were spread, Now boasts but the lily-the roses are fled; That eye, whose bright glance the heart's raptures reveal'd, Now dim with a tear, no more lustre shall yield; And broken with sighs, now for ever must be Fair Ellen, sweet Ellen, fair Ellen O'Reilly, XLI. I COME IN THE MORN.* Flora's Song. I come in the morn, I come in the hour In thy beauty's pride Thou wilt rest to-night by Flora's side. * For the better understanding of this song, it may be necessary to remark that the Western Islanders entertain a tradition that, previous to the death of any young and remarkably beautiful bride among them, an apparition, resembling a mermaid, is always observed. This phantom they distinguish by the name of Flora, or the spirit of the Green Isle, and concur in affirming that it made its appearance immediately before the death of the late much-lamented Princess Charlotte of Wales. Whatever credit may be due to the assertion, or even to the fancy on which it is founded, the song itself possesses considerable merit, and is not unworthy the mournful occasion which The eye I touch must be soft and blue As the sky where the stars are gleaming,— And the spirit within as pure and bright As the stream that leaps among tufts of roses, And sparkles along all life and light, By thy true love's side, To-morrow a shroud his hope shall hide. it is meant to commemorate. The following stanzas, which we have placed under the note, are, in the original, prefixed to the song, and serve very properly as a useful introduction, by solemnizing our minds for the mournful dirge. A voice said from the silver sea, "Woe to thee, Green Isle !-woe to thee!" The Warden from his tow'r looks round, And now he hears the slow waves bringing, The spirit of the Isle is singing In depths which man hath never found. I saw them wreathing a crown for thee, And thy bridal robe was a winding sheet, And the Loves that crown'd thee sat to spin it. They heap'd with garlands thy purple bed, And every flower on earth they found thee, But every flower in the wreath shall fade, Save those thy bounty scatter'd round thee, Yet sweetly sleep, While my hour I keep, For angels, to-night, shall watch and weep. O, Green Isle !-woe to thy hope and pride! And the streams of love around it flowing;To-morrow thy tower shall stand alone, Thy hoary oak shall live and flourish; But the dove from its branches shall be goneThe rose that deck'd its stem shall perish. |