Page:Dreams and Images.djvu/167

 Like the last lamp that burned in Tullia's tomb Through ages, vainly, with unwaning ray; Our star of hope lights but a path of gloom Whose false track leads us round and round alway. But Thou canst open A gate from hope To victory! Thou canst nerve our arms to cope With looming storm and danger still, And lend a thunder-voice to the land's lightning will. Descend, then, Spirit of the Eternal King! To Thee, to Him, to His avenging Son, The Triune of God, in boundless trust we cling; His help once ours, our nationhood is won. We watch the time Till that sublime Event shall thrill the free of every clime. Speed, mighty Spirit! speed its march, And thus complete for earth mankind's triumphal arch.

DARK ROSALEEN

O my dark Rosaleen, Do not sigh, do not weep! The priests are on the ocean green, They march along the deep. There's wine from the royal Pope Upon the ocean green, And Spanish ale shall give you hope, My dark Rosaleen! My own Rosaleen!