The roof-trees fall of hut and hall,
I hear them fall, and falling cry—
"One fate for each, one fate for all;
So wills the Law that willed a lie."
Dread power of Man! what spread the waste
In circles, hour by hour more wide,
And would not let the past be past?—
The Law that promised much, and lied.
Dread power of God! whom mortal years
Nor touch, nor tempt; who sitt'st sublime
In night of night,—O bid thy spheres
Resound at last a funeral chime.
Call up, at last, the afflicted Race
Whom Man not God abolished. Sore,
For centuries, their strife: the place
That knew them once shall know no more.
IRELAND—1849.
WINTER DIRGE.
Fall, Snow, and cease not! Flake by flake
The decent winding-sheet compose:
Thy task is just and pious; make
An end of blasphemies and woes.
Fall flake by flake: by thee alone,
Last friend, the sleeping draught is given:
Kind nurse, by thee the couch is strewn,
The couch whose covering is from heaven.
Descend and clasp the mountain's crest;
Possess wide plain and valley deep:—
This night, in thy maternal breast
Forsaken myriads die in sleep.