VII.
Let us pray for that day—let us manfully strive,
Nor cease while one true Irish heart is alive;
And shame on the sceptic who dreams we can fail,
Or the dastard whose heart for a moment could quail.
VIII.
We have God on our side, who hath blessed the green isle,
And made it with beauty and verdure to smile—
Who preserved us in bondage still faithful and true,
And gave us the spirit no chains could subdue.
IX.
We have him still to lead us—our guide from the first,
Who despaired not when prospects were darkest and worst—
Whose fervour the cold hand of time cannot chill—
Our true-hearted, high-minded Patriot still!
X.
In that God we will trust—by that leader we'll stand,
United—unshrinking—bold heart, and brave hand,
And the Saxon shall quail at the voice of our zeal,
"O'Connell—the land of our love—and Repeal!"
A PORTRAIT FROM THE PEERAGE.
Mentitur, qui te vitiosum, Zoile dixit—
Non vitiosus homo es, Zoile, sed vitium.
In birth, a wanton mother's worthy child,
The offspring of her nuptial faith defil'd;
The graceless spawn of lewd intrigue confess'd,
When keen remorse her dying hour oppress'd;
A jackdaw-noble, glittering in the plumes
Of the old race, whose honours he assumes,
In youth, a profligate, devour'd by debt,
