The Torch of Liberty.

I SAW it all, in fancy's glass!
Herself, the fair, the wild magician,
Who bade this splendid day-dream pass,
And nam'd each gliding apparition.
'Twas like a torch-race-such as they
Of Greece perform'd in ages gone,
When the fleet youths, in long array,
Pass'd the bright torch triumphant on!
I saw the expectant nations stand
To catch the coming flame in turn ;-
I saw, from ready hand to hand,

The dear, though struggling glory burn!

And, Oh, their joy, as it came near, 'Twas in itself a joy to seeWhile fancy whisper'd in my ear,

"That torch they pass is Liberty!"

And each, as she receiv'd the flame,
Lighted her altar with its ray;
Then, smiling to the next that came,
Speeded it on its sparkling way!

From Albion first, whose ancient shrine
Was furnished with the fire already,
Columbia caught the boon, divine,

And lit a flame, like Albion's, steady!
The splendid gift, then, Gallia took;
And, like a wild Bacchante, raising
The brand aloft, its sparkles shook,

As she would set the world a blazing!

Thus kindling wild, so fierce and high
Her altar blaz'd into the air,
That Albion, to that fire too nigh,

Shrank back, and shudder'd at its glare!

Next Spain, so new was light to her, Leap'd at the torch-but ere the spark,

That fell upon her shrine, could stir,

'Twas quench'd-and all again was dark!

Yet no!-not quench'd-a treasure, worth
So much to mortals, rarely dies,
Again her living light look'd forth,

And shone, a beacon, in all eyes!
Who next receiv'd the flame ?-alas!
Unworthy Naples-shame of shames,
That ever, through such hands should pass,
The brightest of all earthly flames!
Scarce had her fingers touch'd the torch,
When frighted by the sparks it shed,
Nor waiting e'en to feel the scorch,

She dropp'd it to the earth-and fled!
And fallen it might have long remain'd,
But Greece, who saw her moment, now
Caught at the prize, though prostrate-stain'd—
And wav'd it round her beauteous brow!
And Fancy bade me mark, where, o'er
Her altar, as its flame ascended,
Fair laurel'd spirits seem'd to soar,

Who thus in song their voices blended-
Shine! shine for ever, glorious flame!
Divinest gift of God's to men!
From Greece the earliest splendour came,
To Greece the ray returns again!
Take, freedom, take thy radiant round!
When dimm'd revive-when lost return!
Till not a shrine through earth be found,
On which thy glories shall not burn!

Moore.

Flight of O'Connor's Child, and death of her Lover.

AT bleating of the wild watch-fold

Thus sang my love "Oh, come with me!

Our bark is on the lake-behold

Our steeds are fasten'd to the tree.

Come far from Castle-Connor's clans!
Come with thy belted forestere,

And I, beside the lake of swans,

Shall hunt for thee the fallow deer;
And build thy hut, and bring thee home
The wild fowl and the honey-comb,

And berries from the wood provide,
And play my clarshech by thy side-
Then come, my love!"-How could I stay?
Our nimble stag-hounds track'd the way,
And I pursued by moouless skies,
The light of Connocht Moran's eyes!

And fast and far, before the star

Of day-spring, rush'd we through the glade,
And saw at dawn the lofty bawn
Of Castle-Connor fade.

Sweet was to us the hermitage
Of this unplough'd, untrodden shore;
Like birds all joyous from the cage,
For man's neglect we loved it more!
And well he knew, my huntsman dear,
To search the game with hawk and spear;
While I, his evening food to dress,
Would sing to him in happiness!
But oh, that midnight of despair,
When I was doom'd to rend my hair!
The night, to me of shrieking sorrow!
The night to him-that had no morrow'
When all was hush'd at even-tide,
I heard the baying of their beagle:
Be hush'd!' my Connocht Moran cried,
"Tis but the screaming of the eagle '—
Alas! 'twas not the eyrie's sound,
Their bloody bands had track'd us out;
Up-listening starts our couchant hound-
And, hark! again that nearer shout
Brings faster on the murderers.

Spare-spare him-Brazil-Desmond fierce!
In vain--no voice the adder charms;
Their weapons cross'd my sheltering arms;
Another's sword has laid him low-

Another's and another's;

And every hand that dealt the blow----
Ah me! it was a brother's!

Yes, when his moanings died away,
Their iron hands had dug the clay,
And o'er his burial turf they trod,
His life-blood oozing from the sod'

Campbell.

Ode to Eloquence.

HEARD ye those loud-contending waves,
That shook Cecropia's pillar'd state'?
Saw ye the mighty from their graves
Look up, and tremble at her fate'?

Who shall calm the angry storm`?
Who the mighty task perforin',

And bid the raging tumult cease?
See the son of Hermes rise',

With siren tongue, and speaking eyes',
Hush' the noise', and soothe' to peace'!

See the olive branches waving
O'er Ilissus' winding stream',
Their lovely limbs the Naiads laving',
The Muses smiling by, supreme'!

See the nymphs and swains advancing',
To harmonious measures dancing`:
Grateful Io Paans rise

To thee', O Power'! who can inspire'
Soothing words-or words of fire',

And shook' thy plumes' in Attic' skies!

Lo! from the regions of the north',

The reddening storm of battle pours', Rolls along the trembling earth'," Fastens on the Olynthian towers`.

Where rests the sword`?-where sleep the brave': Awake! Cecropia's ally save'

From the fury of the blast':

Burst the storm on Phocis' walls"!

Rise'! or Greece' for ever' falls';

Up! or Freedom' breathes' her last'."

The jarring states, obsequious' now',
View the patriot's hand on high;
Thunder' gathering' on his brow',
Lightning' flashing' from his eye'

Borne by the tide of words along',
One voice', one mind', inspire the throng:

"To arms! to arms! to arms !" they cry;

'Grasp the shield', and draw' the sword'; Lead' us to Philippi's' lord';

Let us conquer' him, or die`!”

Ah, Eloquence! thou wast undone';
Wast from thy native country driven',
When Tyranny eclipsed' the sun',

And blotted' out' the stars' of heaven'!

When Liberty' from Greece' withdrew`,
And o'er the Adriatic' flew'

To where the Tiber' pours' his urn'--
She struck the rude' Tarpeian' rock`,
Sparks' were kindled' by the stroke-
Again' thy fires began to burn!

Now shining forth, thou madest compliant'
The conscript fathers to thy charms',
Roused' the world-bestriding giant',
Sinking' fast' in Slavery's' arms`.

I see thee stand by Freedom's fane',
Pouring the persuasive` strain',

་

Giving' vast' conceptions' birth': Hark'! I hear thy thunders sound', Shake' the Forum' round' and round', Shake' the pillars' of the earth'!

First'-born of Liberty' divine'!

Put on Religion's' bright array':
Speak'! and the starless grave' shall shine
The portal' of eternal' day`!

Rise', kindling with the orient beam',
Let Calvary's hill inspire the theme',
Unfold the garments roll'd in blood'!

Oh, touch' the soul-touch all' her chords'
With all the omnipotence of words',

And point' the way` to heaven'--to God'!

The Sister's Curse.

AND go!" I cried, “the combat seek,
Ye hearts that unappalled bore

The anguish of a sister's shriek,
Go!-and return no more!

Anonymous.