Spirit of the age. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1849-1865, 1859-07-06
Emmet and his Love. !"

Emmet ana ms Love.
Now for the last sad look,
The last faint cold embrace,
The latest kiss my, love may print
Upon her lovely face.
Ay bear her from my sight
The bitterness is past
But yet one charge my spirit leaves
A dying one-the last;
Oh bid her love my name
Through death, infamy and shame.
Robert Emmet was celebrated lawyer
and statesman Of Ireland. During the
struggle for independence, he stood formost
on the forum and in the field of liberty Of
his native country. He was the idol Of
Ireland. - -
"None knew him but to love him
None named him but to praise"
Naturally of a warm, ardent tempera-
ment, with heat glowing with patriotism
and a soul fred with the wrongs and wretch
edness Of his country oh is it any mar
vel that he stepped forth in her darkest
hour and swore on the Altar of Freedom
that his countrymen should have their lib
erty or he would pour ont his hearts blood
In the cause. Unfortunately, he was be-
trayed by his enemies--convicted of the
treason and sentenced to be executed. He
delivered fine speech before the court
which has and will be preserved for ages
yet to come.
Twas the evening of lovely day--the
last day for the noble and ill-fated Emmett.
A young lady stood at the castle gate and
desired admittance into the dungeon. She
was closely yelled and the keeper could
not imagine who she was or why one Of
such naughty bearing should be an hum
BILE suppliant at the prison door. Howev-
er, he granted the boon-led her to the
dungeon-opened the massive iron door,
then closed it again-and the lovers were
alone. He was leaning against the prison
wall with down cast head and his arms
were folded on his breast. Gently she raj
sed the veil from her face and Emmet tur.
ned to gaze upon all Earth contained for
him-the girl whose sunny brow in the
days of boyhood had been his polar star
the maiden who had sometimes made him
think 'the world was all sunshine" The
clanking ofthe chains sounded like death
knell to her ears, and she wept like child
Emmett said but little, yet he pressed he
warmly to bis bosom and their feelings hell
a silent meeting-such meetings methink
are held in heaven, only-there we par
no more. In low voice he besought he
not to forget him when the cold grave re
tcelVeu DIS Uouy. NE sP0xc uy gun
days-the happy hours Of childhood whe
his hopes were bright and glorious. An
he concluded by requesting her sometime
to visit the places and scenes that wer
hallowed to his memory from the days ,
infancy, and though the world might pre-
nounce his name with scorn and contemp
oh! he prayed she would still cling to hiI
with affection, and remember him whe
all others should forget. Hark! Th
churchbell sounded and he remembers
the time of execution. The turnkey ente
ed, and after dashing tear from his eye
he separated them from their long embrac
and led the lady from the dungeon.
the entrance she turned and their eyes m
they could not say farewell-the do
swung upon its heavy hinges and they pa
ted forever. No-not forever-is there
heaven?
At sunrise next morning he suffered 81
riously-a martyr to his country and
liberty.
"And one-o'er her the myrtle shove
It's leaves by soft winds famed,
She faded amidst Italian flowers
The last of that fair land"
Twas in the land of Italy-it was I
) gorgeous time of sunset in Italy what
, magnificent scene! A pale emaciated 9
laid upon her bed of death. Oh wa:
hard for her to die far from her native ho
in this beautiful land, where flowers bio
9 perennial and the balmy air come fres
i to the piniug soul? Oh! no. Her S
had set-the brightness of her dream
e faded-her heart was broken When
:, have been formed on earth, close, bind
u ties, what is more heart-rending and
> onizing to the spirit, than to find at |
:. the beloved one is snatched away, and
is left with naught but sad, sad, memorie.
% the dead. Enough-she died Of grie
a the 5etrothed of Robert Emnset-tse ton
!; Sarah Curran, daughter of Counselor {
re ran peer of the realm. Italy cont'
O. her last remains its flowers breathe Il
:; - fragrance over her grave. and the lul
a. tones of the shepherds lutte, sounds a
er quie m to her memory.