I burn, my brain consumes to ashes!
Each eye-ball too like lightning flashes!
Within my breast there glows a solid fire,
Which in a thousand ages can't expire!
Blow, blow, the winds' great ruler! 5
Bring the Po, and the Ganges hither,
'Tis sultry weather,
Pour them all on my soul,
It will hiss like a coal,
But be never the cooler. 10
'Twas pride hot as hell,
That first made me rebell,
From love's awful throne a curst angel I fell
And mourn now my fate,
Which myself did create: 15
Fool, fool, that consider'd not when I was well!
Adieu! ye vain transporting joys!
Off ye vain fantastic toys!
That dress this face—this body—to allure!
Bring me daggers, poison, fire! 20
Since scorn is turn'd into desire.
All hell feels not the rage, which I, poor I, endure.
XXIII.
LILLI BURLERO.
The following rhymes, slight and insignificant as they may now seem, had once a more powerful effect than either the Philippics of Demosthenes, or Cicero; and contributed not a little towards the great revolution in 1688. Let us hear a contemporary writer.
"A foolish ballad was made at that time, treating the Papists, and chiefly the Irish, in a very ridiculous manner, which had a burden said to be Irish words, Lero, lero, liliburlero, that made an impression on the (king's) army, that cannot be imagined by those that saw it not. The whole army, and at last the people, both in city and country, were singing it perpetually. And perhaps never had so slight a thing so great an effect."—Burnet.