NAY, DO NOT TELL ME, WHEN WE MEET. I. NAY, do not tell me, when me meet, Yet none have made my soul more sad. No words can be more sweet to me- No words have made my soul more sad- I feel with hopeless anguish mad, To think-thou never canst be mine. IV. It is not, that thou wouldst thyself And Beauty thus is bought and sold. V. Yet why, this object of their choice, Who can not, must not, raise my voice, VI. For mine must be the Spartan's pangs, He felt his hidden captive's fangs, But bore the torture-till he died. VII. Ev'n so, the anguish I sustain Must in eternal silence rest Cease, cease to throb, my burning brain! Be calm, be calm, my bleeding breast! January 4th, 1837. THE DUCHESS OF BERRI AND THE JEW. "The Jew, Deutz, who was ennobled in Italy, and is believed at Paris to be the father of the Duchess of Berri's infant, is described as an ill-favoured wretch, with sunken and blood-shot eyes, dark hair, like horse hair, horribly bad teeth, and features deeply indented with the small-pox.""-Examiner. SAID Dick to Ned the other day, When he had finished reading This sketch of Deutz, whom Berri proved "I think the Duchess, in one sense, May justly be reviled, For choosing such an ugly wretch As father for a child; But, further, we should blame her not, She may have loved the HEBREW as "Alas!" cried Ned, "I'm much afraid For all th' esprit she could have liked March, 1833. The whole of the Duchess of Berri's case, in reference to the inopportune little intruder, whose semi-parentage is involved in such disedifying obscurity, is best summed up by the able editor of the Dublin Evening Post. "Her Royal Highness," says the sagacious journalist, "being great with child, has formally announced that she was married in Italy. She has been TEN months in FRANCE. Rather distressing for a heroine !" STANZAS. "A hollow agony which will not heal."-BYRON. I. I LOOK around-I look around-life has no charm for meThere is a pang in all I feel—a blight o'er all I see In vain may joy around me glow, or summer o'er me shine There is no glance that fondly beams-no heart that throbs to mine. II. Amid the bustling crowd I seek to lull within my breast Affection's thirsting tenderness, that cannot, will not restFor oh! where'er I turn 'tis but in ceaseless gloom to pineTo meet no glance that fondly beams-no heart that throbs to mine. III. Again, in peaceful scenes, I try my restless soul to calmI fly to friendship, wisdom's page, and music's soothing balm But friendship, wisdom, music's voice, in vain their aid combine They bring no glance that fondly beams-no heart that throbs to mine. IV. And yet there is one gentle form-but why that thought recall? The nectar draught that Love had filled by Fate is turned to gall Those days of hope-that last fond night-to Memory's tomb consign The glance that beamed, the heart that throbbed, can ne'er on earth be mine. October 3d, 1838. PIKES versus PIKE! Suggested by a passage from the speech of a Mr. Pike, of the Metropolitan Conservative Society, in favour of the Orange Corporation of Dublin. "One good turn deserves another."-Old Proverb. In a late Tory clique, cried a spouter called PIKE— (An odd sort of name for such gentry to like!) Precursor's a runner before,' it is said; And if Dan, their great chief, his two millions' will head, We'll find them all real Precursors, I'll promise For we Protestant boys' would soon make them run from us !" Now, to gain a "hear, hear," Mr. PIKE, this is well; But I rather suspect, if you'd risk an attack, We'd have pikes in our FRONT, and a pike in your BACK. December 23d, 1838. WAR SONG OF THE IRISH BARDS BEFORE THE BATTLE OF CLONTARF. The memorable battle of Clontarf was fought on Good Friday, the 23d of April, 1014, between the combined armies of Leinster and Denmark, and the forces of Munster, Connaught, and Ulster. The great opulence of Ireland, under the excellent administration of Brian Boru, by whom she was recovered from all her misfortunes and restored to her ancient prosperity, tempted the Danes to seize on the favourable opportunity which the revolt of Maolmorda, king of Leinster, afforded them, to settle permanently in the country, and divide it among themselves, as they had long intended. For this purpose, they took their families on board their fleet, and determined, as far as possible, to exterminate the Milesians. But being convinced, by the bloody and unsuccessful experience of more than two centuries, how difficult this enterprise would prove, the Danes collected the bravest warriors from their own country, Sweden, Norway, Normandy, Britain, the Hebrides, the Orkneys, the Shetland Islands, and the Isle of Man. The command of these troops was intrusted by Canute to his High-Admiral Broder, a bold and experienced officer of royal blood, with orders, however, to act under Maolmorda, who, upon his junction with those formidable reinforcements, was at the head of 60,000 men. The Milesian army, owing to the absence of a considerable body of South Munster forces, did not amount to 30,000 men. They were led to action by Murrough, the eldest son of the illustrious Brian, who, though he was in his 88th year, is described by our old annalists, as riding through the ranks of his countrymen, with a crucifix in one hand and his golden-hilted sword in the other, exhorting them to do their duty; after which, notwithstanding his great age, he was, with much difficulty, prevailed upon to retire to his tent. There he waited the result of the day in prayer, before the emblem of his suffering Redeemer, having nobly determined, in case of a defeat, to perish with his whole race, whom, to the number of three sons, his brave grandson Turlough, aged only fifteen, and fifteen nephews, he had led to oppose the inveterate enemies of his country and religion. The conflict commenced at sun-rise and continued till late in the evening, when, after one of the most desperately-fought engagements recorded in history, the Northmen were totally routed. Their loss amounted to between 14,000 and 16,000 men, including a chosen band of 1,000 Danish veterans, cased in heavy armour from head to foot. Amongst the slain were Maolmorda, Broder, Charles and Henry, two Norwegian princes, Dolat, Conmaol, and Plait, three eminent Scandinavian champions, and Sigurd, the potent and martial Earl of Orkney-an extensive feudal and piratical sovereignty, embracing, at its most flourishing period, the Orkneys, the Hebrides, the Shetland Islands, the Isle of Man, the three northern counties of Scotland, and large possessions in Inverness and Argyleshires, as well as in Ireland. But this glorious victory was dearly purchased by the deaths of Brian, the Alfred, and Murrough, in strength and valour (though not in invulnerability) the Achilles of his country; Turlough, the monarch's gallant grandson; the brave Sitric, prince of Ulster the warlike thanes or earls of Lennox and Mar, who, as the descendants of the same ancestors, came to assist Brian against the common foes of Ireland and Scotland; many other distinguished princes and nobles, and from four to seven thousand men. It is rather remarkable, that although the English Saxons were completely subjugated, about this period, by the Danish kings Sweyn and his son Canute the Great, yet the Milesian Irish entirely defeated the numerous and elsewhere invincible armies of those princes, aided, as such formidable invaders were, by the powerful alliance of Leinster.' 'O'Halloran's Hist. of Ireland, book x1. chap. 8.; Lanigan's Eccles. Hist. of Ireland, vol. 111. chap. xxiii. sect. 9 to 11; Vallancey's Collectanea, vol. 1. p. 536 to 543. |