THE NIGHT DANCE.

STRIKE the gay harp! see the moon is on high,
And, as true to her beam as the tides of the ocean,
Young hearts, when they feel the soft light of her eye,
Obey the mute call, and heave into motion.

Then, sound notes the gayest, the lightest,

That ever took wing, when heav'n look'd brightest!
Again! Again!

Oh! could such heart-stirring music be heard
In that City of Statues described by romancers,
So wakening its spell, even stone would be stirr'd,
And statues themselves all start into dancers!

Why then delay, with such sounds in our ears,
And the flower of Beauty's own garden before

us,

While stars overhead leave the song of their spheres, And list'ning to ours, hang wondering o'er us? Again, that strain! - to hear it thus sounding

Might set even Death's cold pulses bounding Again! Again!

Oh, what delight when the youthful and gay,

Each with eye like a sunbeam and foot like a feather,

Thus dance, like the Hours to the music of May,

And mingle sweet song and sunshine together!

THERE ARE SOUNDS OF MIRTH.

THERE are sounds of mirth in the night-air ringing, And lamps from every casement shown;

While voices blithe within are singing,

That seem to say "Come," in every tone. Ah! once how light in Life's young season, My heart had leap'd at that sweet lay; Nor paus'd to ask of greybeard Reason Should I the syren call obey.

And, see the lamps still livelier glitter,
The syren lips more fondly sound;
No, seek, ye nymphs, some victim fitter
To sink in your rosy bondage bound.
Shall a bard, whom not the world in arms
Could bend to tyranny's rude controul,
Thus quail, at sight of woman's charms,
And yield to a smile his freeborn soul?

Thus sung the sage, while, slyly stealing,
The nymphs their fetters around him cast,

And, their laughing eyes, the while, concealing,— Led Freedom's Bard their slave at last.

For the Poet's heart, still prone to loving,

Was like that rock of the Druid race,*

Which the gentlest touch at once set moving,

But all earth's power couldn't cast from its base.

*The Rocking Stones of the Druids, some of which no force is able to dislodge from their stations.

OH! ARRANMORE, LOVED ARRANMORE

ОH! Arranmore, loved Arranmore,
How oft I dream of thee,

And of those days when, by thy shore,
I wander'd young and free.
Full many a path I've tried, since then,
Through pleasure's flowery maze,
But ne'er could find the bliss again
I felt in those sweet days.

How blithe upon thy breezy cliffs,
At sunny morn I've stood,

With heart as bounding as the skiffs
That danced along thy flood;

Or, when the western wave grew bright
With daylight's parting wing,

Have sought that Eden in its light
Which dreaming poets sing;-

*

That Eden where th' immortal brave

Dwell in a land serene,

Whose bow'rs beyond the shining wave,

At sunset, oft are seen.

"The inhabitants of Arranmore are still persuaded that, in a clear day, they can see from this coast Hy Brysail, or the Enchanted Island, the Paradise of the Pagan Irish, and concerning which they relate a number of romantic stories."- Beaufort's Ancient Topography of Ireland.

THERE ARE SOUNDS OF MIRTH.

THERE are sounds of mirth in the night-air ringing, And lamps from every casement shown;

While voices blithe within are singing,

That seem to say "Come," in every tone. Ah! once how light in Life's young season, My heart had leap'd at that sweet lay; Nor paus'd to ask of greybeard Reason Should I the syren call obey.

And, see

the lamps still livelier glitter,
The syren lips more fondly sound;
No, seek, ye nymphs, some victim fitter
To sink in your rosy bondage bound.
Shall a bard, whom not the world in arms
Could bend to tyranny's rude controul,
Thus quail, at sight of woman's charms,
And yield to a smile his freeborn soul?

Thus sung the sage, while, slyly stealing,
The nymphs their fetters around him cast,
And, their laughing eyes, the while, concealing,-

Led Freedom's Bard their slave at last.

For the Poet's heart, still prone to loving,
Was like that rock of the Druid race,* *

Which the gentlest touch at once set moving,

But all earth's power couldn't cast from its base.

*The Rocking Stones of the Druids, some of which no force is able to dislodge from their stations.