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النشر الإلكتروني

To the Marquis of Wellesley,

On his being appointed Lord Lieutenant of Ireland.

Genius of Erin! whence the smile

That gently plays around thy cheek, A pearly tear of woe the while

Just dropped upon thy snowy neck ? Where hast thou seen a sight of joy,

Or whence this unexpected bliss ? Has thy grief learned to know alloy, Or hast thou caught a friendly glance From power and mightiness? Perchance

Genius of Erin, it is this.

Hark! even upon the breeze a note
Of rapture loud is heard to float;
Peace reigns upon the land once more,
Where long she was unknown before ;
Gladly th'enchanting song is sung,
And harmony's on every tongue.
"A friend is come," each loudly cries,
"Let the blest news ascend the skies ;
We have received a royal guest,
Of statesmen mightiest, —of men the best,
And one whose very name hath spread
The blessings that on us are shed.”

Marquis of Wellesley! thine the deed;

Be thine the praise for all that's done;

Hand reaches hand of different creed ; Heart, long disjoined, now reaches heart, And joins from hence no more to part.

Guardian of Nations! what's the meed For the vast conquests he has won ?

Green Western Isle! thou once wast free

As on thy hills the mountain roe ; Bright shone the sun of Liberty,

Peace and contentment in its glow. Light was the tune upon thy lyres,

Merry the song of mountain swain ; These days we knew not, nor our sires,

And they may never come again. Our fathers lived in ignorance,

Dark superstition reigned around; Learning to meet was merest chance,

And darkness covered all the ground. Since then a sun of glory rose,

And spread its beams upon our land, 'Twas Literature, whose radiance glows

Far as the British realms expand. Thanks to Britannia's mighty power,

That filled our land with peaceful arts, That brought her laws to Erin's shore,

And lent her aid to form our hearts. Even then, when Knowledge had gone forth, From East to West, from South to North, The sounds of rancour filled the air, And bigotry reigned everywhere.

Clans against clans at variance stood,
That panted for each other's blood,
And, next in rank to royalty,
Insult was offered even to thee.

But, son of Mornington, thy fame
Before thee to our island came.
We know thee well—thou hast been tried;
Dauntless thy heart, and firm thy pride;
We feel from what we know and see
Our guardian angel thou wilt be.
For now again, when fiendish hate,
Contention fell and dire debate,
Had darkly filled our sainted ground,
Concord and peace thou'st spread around.

In days of old, if such as thee

Had reigned among our father's sires,
Men would have thought a Deity
Had bat put on mortality,

To hush their broils, to quell their ires,
Their King and God to be.

In humble reverence we kneel,
Betokening the respect we feel

For the high seat of majesty ;
But our hearts leap with joy when deeds,
Whose excellence so far exceeds

The wisdom of mortality
Come from that throne to which we bend the knee.

Prince of the powerful West !
Thou'st given to us a dear bequest,
And kindly we'll obey his nod,
Nor frowning quail beneath the rod,

If such there chance to fall,
But deem it the command of God,

Who sees and governs all.

First among monarchs, mighty king!
Whose name in farthest climes doth ring,
Thy wisdom hath dispelled our fear,
And dreams of happiness are near;
Thou late last given us real joy
In sending one as thy viceroy
Who can in Erin's centre stand,

And cast a smiling glance around

On her green fields and wooded ground, And know from East to Western strand

He is beloved ; nay more, can say “Erin mavourneen ! thee I

sway : Thou art my own, my native land!” Our dearest ruler, we look up

To thy decrees so justly meet, Nor deem it slavery to stoop

Our willing hands beneath thy feet.

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Thy consort, well is she arrayed

In the rich robes of majesty ;
Her heart so pure, and ne'er delayed

Her outstretched hand—'tis always free

To do the deed of charity.
Now may the needy poor rejoice,
And in her praise lift up their voice,
To Him who in his mercy gave them
One like her from want to save thein.

Sweet Marchioness, be still the same,

As erst thou wert when others sung ; Thousands shall bless thy very name,

And prayers ascend from every tongue. And thus thy name in after ages

Shall live when we have passed away, Thy deeds shall fill the poet's pages

A subject for his sweetest lay.

May Heaven protect its lov’d ones still,

And guide them safely through Each dark attempt, and every ill

"Tis theirs to undergo.

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