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THE LYRE AND THE SWORD.
Where the clarion soundeth joyously
A free and forward blast,
Lies all the choice thou hast !
But a Lyre hung near that falchion,
From whose unheeded strings
Like the sound of viewless wings :
Such were the words it spake,
Again the Sword sang fiercely
Its strain of martial glee :
The battle waits for thee !
Amid its wildest burst;
The home where thou wert nursed.
• But, ah !” the sad Lyre whispered,
“ How terrible to die,
Shine in the cloudless eye!
That sire's low tomb before;
0, open it no more!
The memory of her griefs of old ?” * Pronounced sõrd, by Walker, Smart, and the best English authorities.
The Sword spake yet more proudly :
" Which lifts the bitterer cry, The grief for those who perish,
Or the shame for those who fly? When thou shalt join the mighty slain,
When life's brief day is done,
To own thee for a son ?
Out spake that youthful warrior : *
“ Good Sword, thou counselest well; Come with me to the battle, Where
true father fell : Fair Honor is the queen Bright Fame the
I seek ;
A blush to stain my cheek !
Thou art not wont to weep
In slothfulness and sleep;
Above the true and free;
So let it ever be !
God băde the Sun with golden steps sublime
* It may be more effective to omit this line in the delivery.
+ Here a hand on the First's shoulder ; at Lyre on the Second's, and a look upward.
He băde the guiding spirits of the Stars,
The River at its bubbling fountain cries
pause. The Earth is full of life, the swelling seeds
To Man's most wondrous hand the same voice cried
Unto the soul of man the same voice spoke,
0, Ireland ! — O, my country! wilt thou not
Must seasons change, and countless years
had wider scope
Advance! D. F. M'CARTHY,
LXVIII. - GREECE.
The last of danger and distress, * Ajalon derives its renown from the command of Joshua : “Sun, stand thou still on Gibeon, and thou, moon, in the valley of Ajalon.”
Before Decay's effacing fingers
That fires not, wins, not, weeps not, now,
And but for that chill, changeless brow,
Expression's last receding ray,
Clime of the unforgotten brave !
Say, is not this Thermopylæ?
O servile offspring of the free