POETRY.
TO THE RULERS OF IRELAND.
CHAMPIONS of Law and Freedom truly named,
Not that ill Spirit which with lying show
Of heavenly light conceals the lurid glow
Of Hell's own fires, though ye be foully blamed By banded powers of Wrong—Faction untamed, Loud Ignorance clamouring at them who know, And wild Ambition with last desperate throw Staking her all—stand steadfast, unashamed.
Ye shall have praise hereafter with the great Who laid the strong foundations deep, and high Raised the fair structure of our English State.
Therefore be patient, till each rancorous lie
Just-judging Time confound, and bid the hate
Of Erin's self be changed to amity. C.