New-York daily tribune. [volume] (New-York [N.Y.]) 1842-1866, 1845-08-02
VOL. v. NO. o..

~ We give some further extracts from foreigi
papers today We are compelled to be coniente'
with one Irish Piece from the Nation. Punch
still mixes up something spirited for the public W.
give its hits at public men and things merely 10
their wit, without endorsing its statements or sym
pa,hising with its preiudices Its fling at " Ills
though not rcry witty has more wit than truth In
Irish Tell refers to the refusal Of John OConnel
and w s. O'Brien to obey an order to sit In Com
mittees on business Of the House Of Commons.
THE FAIR IRISH FACE.-.A BRIGADE BALLAD.
T,fr moon showd her shield the chief closed his
Where the snow had been cleared from the rampsrfe'
ground.
And arms pli,ter'd wachful from bsstion and hight
TO be traced on the dawn by desder light
IF was the eve of the May but her garland Of flowers
T. waving afsr from those ominous towers.
As the thoughts Of that have turned for space
To the home of his youth-,o dead msidsn's faces
Whose voice like leaders. still prompted to dare
When Hope grown forlorn, left her talk TO Despair,
Whose tongue like ODonnell's is tuned to record
The legends OF vaor that sharpen the sword ~
The cheffan heard coidly his soldiers request
For the echoes Of battle lie hush'd in bis breast,
And his talet was the he doomd to retrace-
Had no sierner theme than fair maidcns face
Fifty summers have fied"--it thus he began
With a soft and glance for wsrnurtured man
When stswart young peasanf danced on the green
With her'-and his sabre upi'ted flashed far
Whose rnern'ry shines yet like motionless star
Her features her name time but deepens the trace
T was soft Irish NAME was fair Irish face.
How feet sped my wooing how on in my tent
Has the nigbt.wiDd repeated her whispered assent
-hor, and low that pledge was. and timidly given
Yet it held upon EARTH and I will bind us in Heaven.
We loved as none love but in peril and need
For baited by bloodhounds Of Sassanach breed,
fuarc lay srrac
Changed the hue of the each fair Irish face
What fate have the Irish abroad or at home,
Ts rs slaves 10 remain-tis az strangers 10 roam
No shore hath the sun seen so fair so unblest
When he pours his last beams the Isle the West
Loved daughter of Erin lost pulse Of my heart
We heard at the altar the signal 10 part
And the ban Of the foe broke the outlaws embrace
When he ks'd bridos tears from the fair Irish face
The traitors were baffed--ihe ocean was crossd-
NV life il was saved. hut its happiness lost
Though for fealty and force the sword could record
In all lands save the one there trust and reward
Put there dropped the eyes had taught mourn.
Then breathd lone voice that still babe return
o wild sprung my heart rs my charger in chase,
When hrobbd again towards the fair Irish face
He paus'd--hen resumd as if mem'ry had wept--
The irysting sad and twas disnaly kept;
We met-yes we met, when long years had Ia en- wing
Put not meath the hawthorn but not in the spring
The pale light that fell through the comforfless Air,
On low grave geam'd hifully-Oonagh was Mere;
And the scre grass Of Autumn waved high DER the place
Where the soft Irish turf hid the fair Irsh face.
No rust dims my sword but I'm weary Of strife
Ny thoughts lose their way meath the shadows Of life
Al the sound Of the trumpet the vetran should fall
Nor the blood in his bosom move slow 10 the can.
Yet still. as Of old, my hearts pulses are stirr'd,
By the mem'ry: though mute of a musical word
A vision long fed still pine to retrace-
Tis soft Irish name. 'tlcds fair Irish face"
DUBLIN NATION, July 10. J. s. d.