JACOBITE RELICS.
53
Rude jargon our sweet native language supplanting;
Mute, mute, shall the harp's thrilling strain be;
Till Charles, with his flag on the ocean breeze flaunting,
Shall humble the power of Shane Bui.
Oh sad is my heart, that for exile and danger.
Our generous prince should have left us;
But Banba's wild curse shall alight on the stranger,
Whose perfidy thus hath bereft us:
Dread Avenger Supreme! hear my soul's supplication!
Swift, swift, let his course o'er the main be!
Our Charles shall bind up the deep wounds of the nation.
And Erin exult over Shane Bui.
