The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser. — 1844-04-30 (Liverpool, Merseyside, England)

MAIL-BAG MELODIES.  " An open enemy's a curse, But a , to ended friend is worse."—GAr.  We hate the Saxon and the Dane, And the rude Norman men,— We cur,'d their greed for blood and gap, And we curse them now again. Yet start not. Irish born-mau, If you're to Ireland true, We Deed not blood, nor tree', nor clan,— We have no curse for you " Nation, April 13, 1944.  You need not take such wondrous pains To make your diff,?rent castes app. ar, 'Twist " Irish born" and English '• Danes," And '• Saxons" there, and " Saxons" here; We see your se.-,:n behind your smile; You deep, dece,-,:al Popish crew I You hate us, one and al ! the %, bile— nut, God be praised, we know you do!  Then welcome be your honest curse, You c inging, wheedling Gaelic Bard ! We like your proffered blessings w rse— But both demand our just regard. We thank you for yuur hate professed- 'Tis genuine, and we'll prize it well. But for your love. j .st now expressed, We doubt it—ior it ,macks of El 11!  •What ! think you that of all the lot One ingle " Saxon" can be led. To trust you that you hate him not, Because he' Irish born and tared ? No!—all your love, at twice its worth, Is hardly value for a laugh ! And the tiled game-coms of the north Are far too old to peck at chaff.  For many a sly device you search To rive our empires' triple parts— But 'tis th, royal, twin-born church You aim at iu your real hearts!— What chances of success you have Lei. Hillsboro's r cord-bmil, attest— And those who further knoW;edge crave From' Hen! y Looke may team the rest t  Vain ! vain is all your specious cant, Your quinbl ng about native earth! rTis not the "Dane"—but '• Protestant" You ha e !—and hate whe e'er his birth, For, find his crattle where y u wi 1— Abroad—at home—on sea or sod— You hat him I—and you've done so sill, To please your Po e—and he's your God !  Oh! Rome. you show yo,r inmost soul hene'er we meet you face to face We can discern your .1 suit scowl Out through your Pharisai6vrace IAy, we can read upon your brow, And cu ling lip, and sharpset tooth,* As plain as you do preach them now, The class-book lesson • of Maynooth! •  • • • Weknow you. Rome! in cart and skin!. We see—we see your fine pretence, To draw the gaping patriot Anu work upon.his passive _sense, ! So do at once your artful mask Your shbt est tricks are understood ; And cease your nice distinctive task Of analysing British blood! • vitt. From root to branch the Norman-tree And every golden fruit it hears You hate ! because so fair and free To Heaven its outs- read antis it rears Ycu hate our Bible hate our schools— You hate our clergy, hate our.ereed— And oath-bon d to your murderous rules Your hate, in word—you prove in deed!  The stake—the scaffold—and the wheel; Have witnessed it in many a clime And ma. y an age—and now the steel Is ready—and you .‘ tide your time 1" di Bide on ! bide on !--7ynu treacherous hand, From month to month and year to year— Our eye is fixed upon your -hand, And rest assured we'll keep it there !  • Oh ! boast away your " year of work"— Your "shoulder bared" and ." g ided loin; " Your "groups" may line the Lee, at Cork, But will they dale to stein "the Boyne ?" No—no--they won't—the i on that lies In Munster shamrocks fresh and fair, In Ulster's climate fades and flies,. Too puny for " the lily's" dil• 1'  Yes 1 you may hoist the flag of green ! We have the "Grange and the Blue !" A banner that sh .11 ne'er he seen, tYrsieSS to make you'deley rue ! And we have hearts, whe e'et you come, At broad loon-day or depth of night, To meet and chase your miliions tome ! And God, we know, will guard the right!  *`" Dens", might properly enough be considered the very "eye-tooth" of Popery. which, as soon as the young priest has cut, he can see his way pretty plainly before him.