16 FEBRUARY 1895, Page 15

POETRY.

ON A HISTORY OF IRELAND.

SHUT up the book l—a piteous land

(Yet ever beckoning with enchanted wand), Whether by fault or fate

Where all things come too soon or are too late, Of fitful love and inextinguids ible bate. Unhappy, though beloved beyond the sea, Her sons most prosperous furthest from her knee.

Vainly at home they spend—and oh! that it should be--• In barren battle and debate The wit, the humour, and the oratory, Genius enough to make her great, And more than blood enough to make her free.

R. J. ALEXANDER.