The Sinking Fund Cried
[“Now what, we ask, is become of this Sinking Fund – these eight millions of surplus above expenditure, which were to reduce the interest of the national debt by the amount of four hundred
As a Beam O'er the Face of the Waters May Glow
As a beam o’er the face of the waters may glow While the tide runs in darkness and coldness below, So the cheek may be tinged with a warm sunny smile, Though the cold
Oh, the Shamrock
Through Erin’s Isle To sport awhile As Love and Valour wander’d, With Wit, the sprite, Whose quiver bright A thousand arrows squander’d; Where’er they pass, A triple grass Shoots up, with dew-drops streaming, As
Lesbia Hath a Beaming Eye
Lesbia hath a beaming eye, But no one knows for whom it beameth; Right and left its arrows fly, But what they aim at no one dreameth. Sweeter ’tis to gaze upon My Nora’s
Has Sorrow Thy Young Days Shaded
Has sorrow thy young days shaded, As clouds o’er the morning fleet? Too fast have those young days faded That, even in sorrow, were sweet? Does Time with his cold wing wither Each feeling
Fairest! Put on a While
Fairest! put on a while These pinions of light I bring thee, And o’er thy own green isle In fancy let me wing thee. Never did Ariel’s plume, At golden sunset, hover O’er scenes
She is Far From the Land
She is far from the land where her young hero sleeps, And lovers are round her, sighing; But coldly she turns from their gaze, and weeps, For her heart in his grave is lying.
They May Rail at this Life
They may rail at this life from the hour I began it I found it a life full of kindness and bliss; And, until they can show me some happier planet, More social and
At the Mid Hour of Night
At the mid hour of night, when stars are weeping, I fly To the lone vale we loved, when life shone warm in thine eye; And I think oft, if spirits can steal from
I Wish I Was By That Dim Lake
I wish I was by that dim Lake, Where sinful souls their farewell take Of this vain world, and half-way lie In death’s cold shadow, ere they die. There, there, far from thee, Deceitful
I'd Mourn the Hopes
I’d mourn the hopes that leave me, If thy smiles had left me too; I’d weep when friends deceive me, If thou wert, like them, untrue. But while I’ve thee before me, With heart
And Doth Not a Meeting Like This
And doth not a meeting like this make amends For all the long years I’ve been wandering away To see thus around me my youth’s early friends, As smiling and kind as in that
Come, Send Round the Wine
Come, send round the wine, and leave points of belief To simpleton sages and reasoning fools; This moment’s a flower too fair and brief To be wither’d and stain’d by the dust of the
The Parallel
Yes, sad one of Sion, if closely resembling, In shame and in sorrow, thy wither’d-up heart If drinking deep, deep, of the same “cup of trembling” Could make us thy children, our parent thou
By That Lake, Whose Gloomy Shore
By that Lake, whose gloomy shore Sky-lark never warbles o’er, Where the cliff hangs high and steep, Young Saint Kevin stole to sleep. “Here, at least,” he calmly said, “Woman ne’er shall find my