Page:Irish minstrelsy, vol 2 - Hardiman.djvu/25

James.—Spouse of my soul! I was constrained to flee—
The minions I dared trust abandoned me;—
Out on the false ones! thousand foes pressed on—
Betrayed—deserted—could I stand alone?—
Thy Phœnix form! thy cheek's fresh lily hue!
Thy fragrant lips distilling honied dew!
Dear victim! what are these, when churls prevail.
And thy sons curse the brand that thus could fail?

Ireland.—Bend not, my stately oak! nor let dismay
Blench thy bold brow! the craven may betray—
Desert thee—foes assail thee—but in vain!
God is with thee to shelter and sustain.
Gleams the bright blade! the ocean from afar
Wafts to thy aid all circumstance of war—
With Clement's—Philip's banner streaming high,
Naples shall shade thee, and thy foes defy.

James.—My spouse! my portion! in thy changeless faith
Is all my pride—my hope of glory's wreath—
Count o'er the valiant hearts—the true—the brave.
Whose truth, by sea or land, has earned a grave.