Oh! soon upon the step and glance
Grief does the work of age;
And it has been her hapless chance
To open that dark page.
The happy harvest home was o'er,
The fierce tithe-gatherer came;
And her young lover, in his gore,
Fell by a murderous aim!
Then, well may youth's bright glance be gone
For ever from that eye,
And soon will sisters weep upon
The grave that she kneels by;
And well may prouder hearts than those,
That there place garlands, say—
"Have Ireland's peasant girls such woes?—
When will they pass away?"
STEADY.
"Courage—your most necessary virtue—consists not in blind resistance, but in knowing when to forbear."—The Nation, June 17.
Steady! Host of Freeedom, steady!
Ponder, gather, watch, mature;
Tranquil be, though ever ready—
Prompt to act—and to endure.
Aimless, rage you not, insanely,
Like a maniac with his chain,
Struggling madly, therefore vainly,
And lapsing back to bonds again.
But, observe, the clouds o'er Keeper
Long collect their awful ire—
Long they swell more dark and deeper;
When they burst, all heaven's on fire.
