The Irish Avatar

1. 1"And Ireland, like a bastinadoed elephant, kneeling to receive the
2. 2paltry rider."

--[Life of Curran, ii. 336.]

1. 3Ere the daughter of Brunswick is cold in her grave,
2. 4And her ashes still float to their home o'er the tide,
3. 5Lo! George the triumphant speeds over the wave,
4. 6To the long-cherished Isle which he loved like his--bride.

1. 7True, the great of her bright and brief Era are gone,
2. 8The rain-bow-like Epoch where Freedom could pause
3. 9For the few little years, out of centuries won,
4. 10Which betrayed not, or crushed not, or wept not her cause.

1. 11True, the chains of the Catholic clank o'er his rags,
2. 12The Castle still stands, and the Senate's no more,
3. 13And the Famine which dwelt on her freedomless crags
4. 14Is extending its steps to her desolate shore.

1. 15To her desolate shore--where the emigrant stands
2. 16For a moment to gaze ere he flies from his hearth;
3. 17Tears fall on his chain, though it drops from his hands,
4. 18For the dungeon he quits is the place of his birth.

1. 19But he comes! the Messiah of Royalty comes!
2. 20Like a goodly Leviathan rolled from the waves;
3. 21Then receive him as best such an advent becomes,
4. 22With a legion of cooks, and an army of slaves!

1. 23He comes in the promise and bloom of threescore,
2. 24To perform in the pageant the Sovereign's part--
3. 25But long live the Shamrock, which shadows him o'er!
4. 26Could the Green in his hat be transferred to his heart!

1. 27Could that long-withered spot but be verdant again,
2. 28And a new spring of noble affections arise--
3. 29Then might Freedom forgive thee this dance in thy chain,
4. 30And this shout of thy slavery which saddens the skies.

1. 31Is it madness or meanness which clings to thee now?
2. 32Were he God--as he is but the commonest clay,
3. 33With scarce fewer wrinkles than sins on his brow--
4. 34Such servile devotion might shame him away.

1. 35Aye, roar in his train! let thine orators lash
2. 36Their fanciful spirits to pamper his pride--
3. 37Not thus did thy Grattan indignantly flash
4. 38His soul o'er the freedom implored and denied.

1. 39Ever glorious Grattan! the best of the good!
2. 40So simple in heart, so sublime in the rest!
3. 41With all which Demosthenes wanted endued,
4. 42And his rival, or victor, in all he possessed.

1. 43Ere Tully arose in the zenith of Rome,
2. 44Though unequalled, preceded, the task was begun--
3. 45But Grattan sprung up like a god from the tomb
4. 46Of ages, the first, last, the saviour, the one!

1. 47With the skill of an Orpheus to soften the brute;
2. 48With the fire of Prometheus to kindle mankind;
3. 49Even Tyranny, listening, sate melted or mute,
4. 50And Corruption shrunk scorched from the glance of his mind.

1. 51But back to our theme! Back to despots and slaves!
2. 52Feasts furnished by Famine! rejoicings by Pain!
3. 53True Freedom but welcomes, while Slavery still raves,
4. 54When a week's Saturnalia hath loosened her chain.

1. 55Let the poor squalid splendour thy wreck can afford,
2. 56(As the bankrupt's profusion his ruin would hide)
3. 57Gild over the palace, Lo! Erin, thy Lord!
4. 58Kiss his foot with thy blessing--his blessings denied!

1. 59Or if freedom past hope be extorted at last,
2. 60If the idol of brass find his feet are of clay,
3. 61Must what terror or policy wring forth be classed
4. 62With what monarchs ne'er give, but as wolves yield their prey?

1. 63Each brute hath its nature; a King's is to reign,--
2. 64To reign! in that word see, ye ages, comprised
3. 65The cause of the curses all annals contain,
4. 66From Cæsar the dreaded to George the despised!

1. 67Wear, Fingal, thy trapping! O'Connell, proclaim
2. 68His accomplishments! His!!! and thy country convince
3. 69Half an age's contempt was an error of fame,
4. 70And that "Hal is the rascaliest, sweetest young prince!"

1. 71Will thy yard of blue riband, poor Fingal, recall
2. 72The fetters from millions of Catholic limbs?
3. 73Or, has it not bound thee the fastest of all
4. 74The slaves, who now hail their betrayer with hymns?

1. 75Aye! "Build him a dwelling!" let each give his mite!
2. 76Till, like Babel, the new royal dome hath arisen!
3. 77Let thy beggars and helots their pittance unite--
4. 78And a palace bestow for a poor-house and prison!

1. 79Spread--spread for Vitellius, the royal repast,
2. 80Till the gluttonous despot be stuffed to the gorge!
3. 81And the roar of his drunkards proclaim him at last
4. 82The Fourth of the fools and oppressors called "George!"

1. 83Let the tables be loaded with feasts till they groan!
2. 84Till they groan like thy people, through ages of woe!
3. 85Let the wine flow around the old Bacchanal's throne,
4. 86Like their blood which has flowed, and which yet has to flow.

1. 87But let not his name be thine idol alone--
2. 88On his right hand behold a Sejanus appears!
3. 89Thine own Castlereagh! let him still be thine own!
4. 90A wretch never named but with curses and jeers!

1. 91Till now, when the Isle which should blush for his birth,
2. 92Deep, deep as the gore which he shed on her soil,
3. 93Seems proud of the reptile which crawled from her earth,
4. 94And for murder repays him with shouts and a smile.

1. 95Without one single ray of her genius,--without
2. 96The fancy, the manhood, the fire of her race--
3. 97The miscreant who well might plunge Erin in doubt
4. 98If she ever gave birth to a being so base.

1. 99If she did--let her long-boasted proverb be hushed,
2. 100Which proclaims that from Erin no reptile can spring--
3. 101See the cold-blooded Serpent, with venom full flushed,
4. 102Still warming its folds in the breast of a King!

1. 103Shout, drink, feast, and flatter! Oh! Erin, how low
2. 104Wert thou sunk by misfortune and tyranny, till
3. 105Thy welcome of tyrants hath plunged thee below
4. 106The depth of thy deep in a deeper gulf still.

1. 107My voice, though but humble, was raised for thy right;
2. 108My vote, as a freeman's, still voted thee free;
3. 109This hand, though but feeble, would arm in thy fight,
4. 110And this heart, though outworn, had a throb still for thee!

1. 111Yes, I loved thee and thine, though thou art not my land;
2. 112I have known noble hearts and great souls in thy sons,
3. 113And I wept with the world, o'er the patriot band
4. 114Who are gone, but I weep them no longer as once.

1. 115For happy are they now reposing afar,--
2. 116Thy Grattan, thy Curran, thy Sheridan, all
3. 117Who, for years, were the chiefs in the eloquent war,
4. 118And redeemed, if they have not retarded, thy fall.

1. 119Yes, happy are they in their cold English graves!
2. 120Their shades cannot start to thy shouts of to-day--
3. 121Nor the steps of enslavers and chain-kissing slaves
4. 122Be stamped in the turf o'er their fetterless clay.

1. 123Till now I had envied thy sons and their shore,
2. 124Though their virtues were hunted, their liberties fled;
3. 125There was something so warm and sublime in the core
4. 126Of an Irishman's heart, that I envy--thy dead.

1. 127Or, if aught in my bosom can quench for an hour
2. 128My contempt for a nation so servile, though sore,
3. 129Which though trod like the worm will not turn upon power,
4. 130'Tis the glory of Grattan, and genius of Moore!