The Harp of Erin Containing the Poetical Works of the Late Thomas Dermody. In Two Volumes |
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 | The Harp of Erin |  |
And art thou fall'n from thy majestic
height,
Bold bird of Jove? the lightning of thine eye
Wont to pursue the rebels of the sky,
Extinct—and all thy former vigour gone,
In such a space! Lamented patriot, say,
Is thy full sun of glory clos'd in night?
Has death extinguish'd ev'ry genuine ray,
Erst beaming from thy breast, truth's spotless throne?
Ah, me! how short mortality's sad reign,
How short our durance in life's vile abode!
When fate commands, all terrine ties, how vain,
Vain the calm sceptre or tyrannic rod!
Equality unfolds her russet pall,
With portion just, o'er all;
And dull oblivion mars the pageant dream!
Quaint scutcheons, high wrought tombs are seen,
Low as the humble shepherd's hillock green,
And o'er that hillock green, as pure tears stream
And sighs as fervent heave,
As o'er the classic urn, or civic grave?
But o'er the classic urn, the civic grave,
Shall nations bid no laureate honors wave;
Say, shall a Moira sink without a name,
A Milton seek the shade unken'd by partial fame?
Bold bird of Jove? the lightning of thine eye
Wont to pursue the rebels of the sky,
Extinct—and all thy former vigour gone,
In such a space! Lamented patriot, say,
Is thy full sun of glory clos'd in night?
Has death extinguish'd ev'ry genuine ray,
Erst beaming from thy breast, truth's spotless throne?
Ah, me! how short mortality's sad reign,
How short our durance in life's vile abode!
When fate commands, all terrine ties, how vain,
Vain the calm sceptre or tyrannic rod!
Equality unfolds her russet pall,
With portion just, o'er all;
And dull oblivion mars the pageant dream!
Quaint scutcheons, high wrought tombs are seen,
Low as the humble shepherd's hillock green,
And o'er that hillock green, as pure tears stream
214
As o'er the classic urn, or civic grave?
But o'er the classic urn, the civic grave,
Shall nations bid no laureate honors wave;
Say, shall a Moira sink without a name,
A Milton seek the shade unken'd by partial fame?
| The Harp of Erin | |