JACOBITE RELICS.
99
Then she answered me sweet, with a tear and a smile,
"None of these greets thee now—but the Queen of the
Isle,
That once reigned thrice happy o'er mountain and vale,
The genius of Erin, the pride of the Gael."
To see Erin's genius what joy thrilled my frame!
But grief for her wrongs soon my spirit o'ercame;
Till she cried in sweet accents allaying my smart,
"My son cease to grieve, and with strength arm thy heart.
"For swift o'er the seas come armed ranks in their might.
Well trapped are their horses, their swords gleaming
bright;
Led on by a hero, to sweep from the coast
The ruthless, false-hearted, heretical host."
H 2
