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SPIRIT OF THE NATION.
39

IV.

I saw that eagle glance again—the brow was marked with care,
Though rich and regal are the robes the Nation's chief doth wear;[1]
And many an eye now quailed with shame, and many a cheek now glow'd,
As he paid them back with words of love for ev'ry curse bestow'd.
I thought of his unceasing care, his never-ending zeal;
I heard the watchword burst from all—the gath'ring cry—Repeal:
And as his eyes were raised to heav'n—from whence his mission came—
He stood amid the thousands there a monarch save in name!


THE COQUETTE.

TO ———

"The love we have lost is never renewed. On that dread vacuum of the breast, the temple and the garden rise no more—that feeling, be it hatred, be it scorn, be it indifference, which replaces love, endures to the last."—Bulwer.

I.

I lov'd thee—yes, I lov'd thee—oh! how deeply and how well,
The heart that loves alone can feel—what words can ever tell,
Too long I dream'd—I vainly dream'd—affection could reside,
Within that breast of ice and steel—of cold and cutting pride.


II.

But now my bosom thrills no more, as once for thee it thrill'd—
I see the dark and chilly cloud my fancy strove to gild—
The tints that Passion round thee threw—the rays of Love depart—
I know thee, as thou falsely wert—and as thou truly art.


  1. Written when O'Connell wan Lord Mayor.