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The Shamrock

or, Hibernian Cresses. A Collection of Poems, Songs, Epigrams, &c. Latin as well as English, The Original Production of Ireland. To which are subjoined thoughts on the prevailing system of school education, respecting young ladies as well as gentlemen: with practical proposals for a reformation [by Samuel Whyte]

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AN INVITATION TO THE AUTHOR'S WEDDING.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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AN INVITATION TO THE AUTHOR'S WEDDING.

Ye chosen Mortals, favour'd few,
Who pay our Mysteries Reverence due,
Our Rites who honour, nor profane,
With Thought impure, our Fairy Reign,
Attend—approach—assemble all,
On Thursday next, at Hymen's Hall.
Know ye what heavenly Guests prepare
To bid our Favourites welcome there?—

100

Love, his Brows with Myrtle bound;
Th'attendant Graces smiling round;
Chearfulness, with Youth that reigns;
Mirth, that Decency restrains;
Laughter, innocent, and wild;
Fair Contentment, Virtue's Child;
Health, and Hope, and Joy, attend;
And sweet Good-humour, Beauty's Friend:
Such the Train, of heavenly Birth—
With Caution come, then, Sons of Earth!
Let none, with Glance unmanner'd, try
To cloud, or pain the modest Eye;
Nor any Accent wound the Ear,
Which Innocence would blush to hear—
Failing in this, rash Mortal, know,
That Instant, Oberon is your Foe:
If aught, your Tongue may lightly speak,
Shall paint with red the Maiden Cheek;
Shall force from Betty's Breast a Sigh;
Or call a Tear from Jenny's Eye;
O tremble, then—with Vengeance due
Our Elves shall pinch you black and blue.
And you, ye fair, and virgin Throng,
Attend, nor slight the Fairy Song—
O then, when yours the Turn to bow,
And plight, for Life, the solemn Vow,
Let Wealth ne'er bribe you into Care,
Nor Splendor lure you to Despair;
Profane not Hymen's hallow'd Bands,
But, give your Hearts, or keep your Hands!
If Reason, first, your Choice approve,
Esteem shall ripen into Love;

101

Be that alone the Tie that binds,
Sweet Union of consenting Minds!
So Life's fair Morn shall glide serene,
Nor dimm'd by Grief, nor vex'd by Pain;
So Love, with pure, and steady Ray,
Shall gild the Evening of your Day;
And Hymen's Torch, even to the Urn,
With undiminish'd Lustre burn!
Oberon.