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The lay of an Irish harp

or metrical fragments. By Miss Owenson
(1783-1859)

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[section]
 I. 
FRAGMENT I. THE IRISH HARP.
 II. 
FRAGMENT II. LA ROSE FLETRIE.
 III. 
FRAGMENT III. TO MRS. LEFANUE.
 IV. 
FRAGMENT IV. VIVE LA PLATONIQUE!
 V. 
FRAGMENT V. THE DRAWING-ROOM.
 VI. 
FRAGMENT VI. THE DREAM.
 VII. 
FRAGMENT VII.
 VIII. 
FRAGMENT VIII. THE VIOLET.
 IX. 
FRAGMENT IX. TO MRS. C*N*LLE.
 X. 
FRAGMENT X. THE BOUDOIR.
 XI. 
FRAGMENT XI. THE SPANISH GUITAR.
 XII. 
FRAGMENT XII. SPLEEN.
 XIII. 
FRAGMENT XIII. FANCY.
 XIV. 
FRAGMENT XIV. TO MRS. BROWNE,
 XV. 
FRAGMENT XV. THE MUSICAL FLY.
 XVI. 
FRAGMENT XVI. TO SIGNOR ALPHONSO PILLIGRINNI, LL.D.
 XVII. 
FRAGMENT XVII. CONCETTE.
 XVIII. 
FRAGMENT XVIII. HOME.
 XIX. 
FRAGMENT XIX. L'AMANT MUTIN.
 XX. 
FRAGMENT XX. TO-MORROW.
 XXI. 
FRAGMENT XXI. THE SENSITIVE PLANT.
 XXII. 
FRAGMENT XXII. TWILIGHT.
 XXIV. 
FRAGMENT XXIV.
 XXV. 
FRAGMENT XXV. DAWN.
 XXVI. 
FRAGMENT XXVI. SLEEP.
 XXVII. 
FRAGMENT XXVII. THE NOSEGAY.
 XXVIII. 
FRAGMENT XXVIII. L'AMANTE FURIOSO.
 XXIX. 
FRAGMENT XXIX.
 XXX. 
FRAGMENT XXX. THE MINSTREL BOY.
 XXXI. 
FRAGMENT XXXI. TO LOUISA.
 XXXII. 
FRAGMENT XXXII. CANZONA.
 XXXIV. 
FRAGMENT XXXIV. APATHY.
 XXXV. 
FRAGMENT XXXV. THE IRISH JIG.
 XXXVI. 
FRAGMENT XXXVI. THE SWAN QUILL.
 XXXVII. 
FRAGMENT XXXVII. JOY.
 XXXVIII. 
FRAGMENT XXXVIII. THE OATH.
 XXXIX. 
FRAGMENT XXXIX. LOVE'S PICTURE.
 XLI. 
FRAGMENT XLI. HEALTH.
 XLII. 
FRAGMENT XLII. EFFUSION.
 XLIII. 
FRAGMENT XLIII. CUPID TIPSY.
 XLIV. 
FRAGMENT XLIV. THE BRIDE.
 XLV. 
FRAGMENT XLV. WHIM.
 XLVII. 
FRAGMENT XLVII. THE BUTTERFLY.
 XLVIII. 
FRAGMENT XLVIII. VENUS AND CUPID.

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176

FRAGMENT XLIII. CUPID TIPSY.

[_]

(IMITATED FROM THE ITALIAN.)

I

Fairer than Alpine sunless snows
Wert thou, in thy primæval hour,
Eternal odour-breathing rose!
Queen of every lovely flow'r;
177

II

Till, upon a festive day,
When the Loves with Hymen sported,
Revel'd wild in antic play,
And the brimming goblet courted,

III

An urchin wilder than the rest
Tript in many a mazy ringlet,
The luscious grape insatiate prest,
And shook fresh odours from his winglet.

IV

While the bowl of nectar'd dews
Trembles in his nerveless clasp,
Thy modest form (sweet rose!) he views,
And reels, thy fragrant charms to grasp.
178

V

But reeling, spills the crimson tide
Which o'er thy tintless bosom flows;
And now that bosom's snowy pride
With love's own colouring warmly glows.
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