Tell me, thou Star, whose wings o
Speed thee in thy fiery flight,
In what cavern of the night
Will thy pinions close now?
Tell me, Moon, thou pale and gray

CHORUS OF SPIRITS:
FIRST SPIRIT:
Palace-roof of cloudless nights!
Paradise of golden lights!
Deep, immeasurable, vast,

Oh! there are spirits of the air,
And genii of the evening breeze,
And gentle ghosts, with eyes as fa
As star-beams among twilight trees
Such lovely ministers to meet

I rode one evening with Count Mad
Upon the bank of land which breaks
Of Adria towards Venice: a bare s
Of hillocks, heap’d from ever-shif
Matted with thistles and amphibiou

When May is painting with her col
The landscape sketched by April h

Bear witness, Erin! when thine in
Sees summer on its verdant pasture
Its cornfields waving in the winds
The billowy surface of thy circlin
Thou tree whose shadow o’er the A

Ah! grasp the dire dagger and couc
If vengeance and death to thy boso
The dastard shall perish, death’s
For fate and revenge are decreed f
Ah! where is the hero, whose nerve

Thou art fair, and few are fairer
Of the Nymphs of earth or ocean;
They are robes that fit the wearer
Those soft limbs of thine, whose m
Ever falls and shifts and glances

Alas, good friend, what profit can
In hating such a hateless thing as
There is no sport in hate where al
Is on one side: in vain would you
Your frowns upon an unresisting sm

Thy little footsteps on the sands
Of a remote and lonely shore;
The twinkling of thine infant hand
Where now the worm will feed no mo
Thy mingled look of love and glee