I saw in a dream the sad angel of Erin; Her green robe hung loosely, so withered her form; For her country she sighed, as though almost despairing, Of shelter and rest from the pitiless storm. Though the day-star of Hope, rising fair o’er the ocean, Shone bright on the mist of her eye’s sad devotion; Yet scarcely her lips, in their trembling emotion, Could whisper the anthem of Erin-go-bragh. ‘Sad is my fate!’ said the heart-broken stranger; ‘The wild deer and fox shall be monarchs alone; For, racked by the tortures of famine and danger, To new homes and new countries my children have flown, Never again, when the hill-tops are hoary And the winter winds wail, shall they list to the story, Which their forefathers loved, of their countrymen’s glory, Nor join in the chorus of Erin-go-bragh. Britannia, my sister, though sad and forsaken, In hope I yet linger about thy rough shore; Alas, has my anguish no power to awaken Some pity to love, and some aid to restore? O happy land, only thou can’st replace me In a haven of peace! If thine arms shall embrace me, Never again shall my children disgrace me, Nor die at a distance, but live in my heart. Now is the cabin-door open and shattered, Father and mother are weeping within; Gone are their kindred, their friends are all scattered, Their children with famine are wasted and thin. Ah, my sad heart, as I look on this sorrow, Hopeless to-day, and despairing to-morrow, How can I dare any comfort to borrow From dreams which the future may blast and destroy? Yet all the thoughts of its anguish suppressing, One only fond wish my sad heart can desire―― That my sons’ bitter curses may change to a blessing, As faction shall languish and discord expire! Now wild with distress is my isle of the ocean; Then gladness shall swell my fond breast with emotion, And my children shall sing with new love and devotion, Erin mavourneen, Erin-go-bragh!’ KOMMITOP (CAPTAIN WALFORD). ―――― SECOND PRIZE. There crept o’er the loveliest isle of the ocean The foretaste of famine, foreshadow of pain, And winter and want, with each fiercer emotion. Long-suffering patience had worn to the wane; For the food of the famishing people was rotten, And the hate that is often of hunger begotten Embittered the hearts with sedition besotten, And the singers of Erin were silent again.