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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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174

FRAGMENT XLII. EFFUSION.

“Helas! il ne me reste de mes contentments
Qu'ne souvenir funesti
Qui me les convertit a toute héurs in tourments.”

I

Return, ye fairy dreams of promis'd joy,
My youthful fancy's flatt'ring pencil drew,
Nor suffer time your visions to destroy,
Nor strike the bright tints from my raptur'd view.
175

II

Again, oh Hope! thy glowing prospects spread,
Restore thy scenes so distant and so fair;
Oh! be each thought by thee, sweet syren, led,
And drown in fancied bliss each real care.

III

For what can “flat reality” bestow,
E'en when illum'd by fortune's brightest beam,
To compensate those joys that sweetly flow
From youthful Hope, and youthful fancy's dream?
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