THE HARPER. On the green banks of Shannon, when Sheelah was nigh, No blithe Irish lad was so happy as I; No harp like my own could so cheerily play, When at last I was forc'd from my Sheelah to part, She said (while the sorrow was big at her heart) 6 Oh! remember your Sheelah when far, far away ; And be kind, my dear Pat, to our poor dog Tray. Poor dog! he was faithful and kind, to be sure, And he constantly lov'd me, although I was poor; When the sour-looking folks sent me heartless away, I had always a friend in my poor dog Tray. 10 When the road was so dark, and the night was so cold, And Pat and his dog were grown weary and old, 15 Though my wallet was scant, I remember'd his case, Where now shall I go, poor, forsaken, and blind? 20 SONG. My mind is my kingdom, but if thou wilt deign Α queen there to sway without measure; Then come, o'er its wishes and homage to reign, Then of thoughts and emotions each mutinous crowd, THE BEECH TREE'S PETITION. OH leave this barren spot to me, Spare, Woodman, spare the beechen tree. Spare, Woodman, spare the beechen tree. Thrice twenty summers I have stood Since childhood in my rustling bower Spare, Woodman, spare the beechen tree. HOHENLINDEN. ON Linden, when the sun was low, All bloodless lay th' untrodden snow, But Linden saw another sight, By torch and trumpet fast array'd, Then shook the hills with thunder riv❜u, Far flash'd the red artillery. |