JACOBITE RELICS.
109
See how the spoilers' stem the surge!
O'er Dathi's bark the winds prevail.
She hangs upon the billow's verge,
With groaning plank and shivered sail.
The tempest howls—the writhing wave
Surrounds her, yawning to devour;
Will not her sons unite to save?
Oh! shield her in this perilous hour!
Why, tame ones! can ye not resign
The blood of kings, that through you runs?
Who broke the rule of Balar's line?
Say—are not ye Milesius' sons?
Like those redeemed from Ilium's fall,
To wander o'er the pathless main;
Proud Temor, Tailltean, we recall.
But ne'er shall see their pomp again.
As rose the voice of Israel's wail,
From Egypt breathing to her God;
By dark Bovinda's wave the Gael,
Weep for the fields their fathers' trod.
