* He was born in the village of Nobber, county of Westmeath, in 1670, and died in 1739. He never regretted the loss of sight, but used gaily to say, “my eyes are only transplanted into my ears.” Of his poetry, the reader may form some judgment from these examples. Of his music, it has been said by O’Connor, the celebrated historian, who knew him intimately, “so happy, so elevated was he in some of his compositions, that he excited the wonder, and obtained the approbation of a great master who never saw him, I mean Geminiani.” His execution on the harp was rapid and expressive--far beyond that of all the professional competitors of the age in which he lived. The charms of women, the pleasures of conviviality, and the power of poesy and music, were at once his theme and inspiration; and his life was an illustration of his theory, for until his last ardour was chilled by death, he loved, drank and sung. He was a welcome guest to every house, from the peasant to the prince; but in the true wandering spirit of his profession, he never staid to exhaust that welcome. I. “I must sing of the youthful plant of gentlest mien--Fanny, the beautiful and warm soul’d--the maid of the amber twisted ringlets; the air lifted and light footed virgin--the elegant pearl and heart’s treasure of Eriu; then waste not the fleeting hour--let us enjoy it in drinking to the health of Fanny, the daughter of David.” II. “It is the maid of the magic lock I sing, the fair swan of the shore--for whose love a multitude expires: Fanny, the beautiful, whose tresses are like the evening sun beam; whose voice is like the blackbird’s morning song: O, may I never leave the world until dancing in the air (this expression in the Irish is beyond the power of translation) at her wedding, I shall send away the hours in drinking to Fanny, the daughter of David.” * * She was daughter to David Power, Esq., of the county Galway, and mother to the late Lord Cloncarty. The epithet bestowed on her of “Swan of the shore,” arose from her father’s mansion being situated on the edge of Lough Leah, or the grey lake, of which many curious legends are told. GRACY NUGENT. I. “I delight to talk of thee! blossom of fairness! Gracy, the most frolicsome of the young and lovely--who from the fairest of the province bore away the palm of excellence--happy is he who is near her, for morning nor evening grief, nor fatigue, cannot come near him; her mien is like the mildness of a beautiful dawn; and her tresses flow in twisted folds--she is the daughter of the branches.--Her neck has the whiteness of alabaster--the softness of the cygnet’s bosom is hers; and the glow of the summer’s sunbeam is on her countenance. Oh! blessed is he who shall obtain thee, fair daughter of the blossoms--maid of the spiry locks!” II.