Drumara startles at thy boisterous haste-
Behind her bill Garvaghy seems to shrink-
Dromore, aghast, surveys the watery waste,
Like one that trembling stands on ruin's brink.
The fretted rocks resound beneath thy pace,
As foaming thence the boiling torrents fall,
To where Sylvanus and the dryads grace
Yon residence of rural taste, Gill Hall.
Sooth'd by the prospect of that charming scene,
Thou seem'st awhile to check thy moody rage,
Assume a milder look, a gentler mien-
Such power has beauty passion to assuage!
But soon thy intermitted rage returns,
As Donaghcloney opens to thy view—
Soon Maralin her flooded pastures mourns,
And soon the nymphs of marshy Moira too.
Thy bloated form askance Kilwarlin eyes,
A mass uncouth, mishapen, and impure;
Maze next beholds thy progress with surprise,
And Blaris sitting on her sandy moor.
To lave fair Lisnagarvey's verdant feet
Thy sluggish current now obsequious bends;
And winding thence through many a fair retreat,
In sullen grandeur to Belfast descends.
Here Ocean's billows, in their wide embrace,
The gather'd tribute of thy strength receive-
And thus diffus'd amid the trackless space,
To Neptune's care thee, Lagan, now we leave.
But all their charms could not prevail,
To steal my heart from yonder vale.
Of distant climes the false report,
It lur'd me from my native land:
It bade me rove-my sole support
My cymbals and my saraband.
The woody dell, the hanging rock,
The chamois skipping o'er the heights;
The plain adorn'd with many a flock.
And oh! a thousand more delights,
That grace yon dear belov'd retreat,
Have backward won my weary feet.
Now safe return'd, with wandering tir'd,
No more my little home I'll leave;
And many a tale of what transpir'd,
Shall while away the winter's eve.
Oh! I have wander'd far and wide,
O'er many a distant foreign land:
Each place, each province, I have try'd,
And sung and danc'd my saraband;
But all their charms could not prevail,
To steal my heart from yonder vale.
ALEXANDER'S FEAST: AN ODE.
T of Brandy;
IMOTHEUS now, in music handy,
The hero pulls out Thaïs to the dance:
Timotheus now struck up a reel ;
The couple skipp'd with nimble heel,
Then sat them down, and drank a quart of Nantz.
Now did the master of the lyre
On dancing exercise his fire.
sung of hops at court, and wakes, and fairs;
He sung of dancing dogs, and dancing bears;
He prais'd the minuet of Nan Catley,
And lumps of pudding, and Moll Pately:
The king grew proud, and soon began to reel,
A hopping inspiration seiz'd his heel.
Bravi, bravi, the soldier crowd
In admiration cry'd aloud.
The lady dances like a bold Thalestris,
And Alexander hops like Monsieur Vestris.
Again, so furiously they dance a jig,
The lady lost her cap, the hero lost his wig.
The motly mob, behind, before,
Exclaim'd-encore ! encore! encore !
Proud of th'applause, and justly vain,
Thaïs made a curtsey low,
Such as court ladies make before the queen.
Alexander made a bow,
Such as the royal levee oft has seen,
And then they dane'd the reel again.
Of vast applause the couple vain,
Delighted, danc'd the reel again:
Now in, and now out,
They skipp'd it about,
As tho' they felt the madness of the moon ;
Such was the power of Timothy and tune.
When the dub a dub, dub a dub drum,
In triumph behind e'm beat-Go to bed, Tom
[Peggy Stewart was the daughter of an Otaheitan Chief, and married to one of the Mutineers of the Bounty. On Stewart's being seized and carried away in the Pandora Frigate, Peggy fell into a rapid decay, and in two months died of a broken heart, leaving an infant daughter, who is still living.]
[From the same.]
ROM the isle of the distant ocean
My white love came to me;
I led the weary stranger
Beneath the spreading tree.
With white and yellow blossoms
I strew'd his pillow there;
And watch'd his bosom's heaving,
So gentle and so fair.
Before I knew his language,
Or he could talk in mine,
We vow'd to love each other,
And never to resign.
O then 'twas lovely watching
The sparkling of his eyes;
And learn the white man's greeting,
And answer all his sighs.
I taught my constant white love
To play upon the wave,
To turn the storm to pleasure,
And the curling surge to brave.
How pleasant was our sporting,
Like dolphins on the tide ;
To dive beneath the billow,
Or the rolling surf to ride.
To summer groves I led him,
Where fruit hangs in the sun
We linger'd by the fountains,
That murmur as they run.
By the verdant islands sailing,
Where the crested sea-birds go;
We heard the dash of the distant spray,
And saw through the deeps the sunbeams play,
In the coral bow'rs below.
And when my lover, weary,
To our woodland couch would creep,
I sang the song that pleas'd him,
And crown'd his lids with sleep.
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