To where Sir Morogh's bones recline,
That he may pay before his shrine
The vow that he had made.

Once more the sumptuous feast is spread
At Cornwall's ducal court;

Sir Tristram, welcomed from the dead,
Leads on each warlike sport;

And once again the Prince can smile,
Freed from his tribute to the Isle. *

The annual tribute so long paid by the Duke of Cornwall to the King of Leinster, was designated "The Island Tribute."

SELECTIONS

FROM THE MELO-DRAMA OF

"FARCE AND OPERA,"

Which out of Twenty-three Pieces sent in to the Manchester Dramatic Reading Society for adjudication, received second prize.

JANUARY, 1843.

EXTRACTS

FROM

"FARCE AND OPERA."

Prologue.

A learned sage declared that virtue bloom'd
In ancient Rome. Lest it might be presumed
She still resided in that holy city,

He says she died there. What a monstrous pity
That men of wisdom and of wit in one sense,
Should ever perpetrate such silly nonsense!
If Roman virtue died with ancient Rome,
We've British virtues in each Briton's home.
They are the Lares that protect our fame,
Exalt our glory, and adorn our name.
Nor will we, miser-like, each grace enthral,
Denying any to the generous Gaul.

Suffice it us, the lady still survives,

And, 'spite her rivals, in each nation thrives, Sometimes with rank, and wealth, and fashion reigns,

Sometimes to dwell in lowly homestead deigns.
Here with young Love in rustic innocence,
There 'mid a population wide and dense.
Our age can boast of "Friendship, Love, and
Truth,"

Practised in age,-inculcated in youth;
With every grace that can exalt the mind,
Refine the taste, and humanize mankind..
While far o'er all benign Benovelence
Extends her grateful cheering influence,-
Mercy's sweet child, whom daily we can see,
Linked with unostentatious charity.

To prove these axioms is our present aim,
And kind indulgence in th' attempt we claim ;
Hoping that FARCE AND OPERA may prove
A faithful portraiture of Virtuous Love,
Disinterested, firm, unbiassed, free,

With truth and friendship joined in unity,--
A just delineation, although rude,

Of memory's birthright, heav'n-born gratitude,
A miniature of Virtue's best reward,

Our heart's approval, and the world's regard,-
All ending in delight without alloy,

One cloudless scene of happiness and joy.
And may the picture we would paint so bright

Be lighted up by your applause to-night.