JACOBITE RELICS.
11
IRELAND AND KING JAMES.1
BY HENRY GRATTAN CURRAN, ESQ.
Ireland.—What stranger turns for refuge to ray hall,
Whose gate still opens wide to misery's call?—
James.—Thy James alas! in want and woe I come
To seek the shelter of thy friendly home.
Ireland.—Woe! that the sanction of thy sacred name,
Should come to deepen destitution's claim;
When foes discomfited should trembling flee
Before thy reeking blade!—but woe is me!
Gazing upon his baffled brand, the Gael
Curses the hordes that warp the eternal scale;
And rend with ruffian hand the trembling string,
That waked the heart to rapture's fervid spring;
Or at the shrine its deep devotion poured.
When Christ looked down where Christian priests adored.
