Page:The Spirit of the Nation.djvu/154

58 VIII.

Ul-Erin laughs above,

O'er Shannon's wave below,

And songs of joy and love

Swell the melting airs that blow,

Enamour'd ling'ring long near thy shore.

Around dear Freedom's shrine

Thy dewy shamrocks twine,

And resound thy harps divine

Evermore!

Hurra! our feuds are drowned at last;

Hurra! let tyrants tremble;

The fronted foemen of the past

In brotherhood assemble.

Fill up—and with a lofty tongue

As ever spoke from steeple,

From shore to shore his health be rung—

The leader of the people.

In mighty triumphs, singly won,

The nation has a token

That mightier deeds will yet be done—

The last strong fetter broken;

Since hearts of nerve and hands of strength,

Once banded to resist him,

Unfurl his flag, and share at length

The glory to assist him.

Up with the wine from boss to brim,

And be his voice the loudest,

Who rears, at risk of life or limb,

Our country's flag the proudest.

"The leader of the people"—grand,

Yet simple wisdom guide him!

And glory to the men who stand,

Like sheathed swords, beside him!