CANTICLE OF DELIVERANCE.
BY HENRY GRATTAN CURRAN.
Too long have the churls2 in dark bondage oppressed me,
Too long have I cursed them in anguish and gloom;
Yet hope with no vision of comfort has blessed me—
The cave is my shelter—the rude rock my home:
Save Donn and his kindred,3 my sorrow had shaken
All friends from my side, when at evening, forsaken,
I sought the lone fort, proud to hear him awaken
The hymn of deliverance breathing for me.
He told how the heroes were fall'n and degraded,
And scorn dashed the tear their affliction would claim!
But Phelim and Heber,4 whose children betrayed it,
The land shall relume with the light of their fame!
The fleet is prepared, and proud Charles is commanding,
And wide o'er the wave the white sail is expanding,
The dark brood of Luther shall quail at their landing—
The Gael, like a tempest, shall burst on the foe!—
