ON THE DUBLIN EXHIBITION.
Oh Emerald Isle, brightest pearl of the ocean,
First flower of the earth, on thy newly-horn wings
Soar up to the sky, with triumphant emotion,
Whilst thou sittest, receiving the homage of kings.
Raise, Erin, thy brow, which no longer is clouded
And seared by the cold brand of chilling neglect;
Stand forth in the garb of festivity shrouded
As thy sons and thy daughters, fair maiden, expect.
Exchanging thy widowhood's lonely condition