ous even,
Is scarcely fairer than the form,
The light, the grace, from stem to stern--a
Fairy riding on the storm--
Of the fleet, trusty, dight _Juverna_,
Away, away, one last look more:
One blessing on the naked land--
Though the too glorious dream be o'er--
One blessing for her truthful hand,
Her proud old faith, though darkly grown,
Still lingering by each cold hearth-stone.

Away, away; poor fool of fate,
Couldst thou but dream this mournful end,
This midnight of a hope so great,
Where shame and sorrow darkly blend--
Couldst thou divine that thus bedecked,
With rags and dirt, thine eyes downturned:
Thou'dst flee, thy whole life's labour wrecked.
Thy very heart within thee burned.
--Away, away, in all the past,
There's not an act I would recall,
I bow me to the o'erwhelming blast,
But 'tis the heart alone can fall,
And mine may once again defy.
The fate that mocks it scoffingly.

Away, away, if o'er the sea,
My voice could reach the prison grate.
Where daylight creeping gloomily,
Comes to deride the captives' fate;
Could I but prove by word or act,
How firm my heart and purpose still,
Their life's worst pang to counteract,
Before their proud young hearts were still--
To live but that the land they loved
Should yet assert its native right,
That the immortal faith they proved,
Should yet be robed in victory's light,
And, oh, to feel such promise high,
Were last to light their dying eye.

If apology were to be offered for the change of measure of the above,
and its somewhat conflicting sentiments, it would be found in the tumult
of passions, excitement, fear, hope, rage, disappointment and regret
with which, standing among cattle on the deck, and disguised in meanest
rags, I looked upon my country's shores for, it may be the last time,
and thought of her hopes, her misery and fall. Both faults may be
amended here, but I cannot help regarding it as irreligious toward
thoughts suggested by the circumstances then around me to remodel even
the structure into which they spontaneously shaped themselves.

[Illustration: Aheny Hill, showing the Constabulary Barrack destroyed by
the Insurgents. 1848]

Night soon fell drearily upon the water. I engaged a berth from one of
the sailors, and before half an hour, lost all consciousnes