N.

[6] These lines were sent to me by William Smith O'Brien, the evening of
Monday, October 8, 1848, the day on which sentence of death was passed
upon him.

THOMAS FRANCIS MEAGHER. October 12, 1848.

THE SADDEST FATE.

To touch a broken lute,
To strike a jangled string,
To strive with tones forever mute
The dear old tunes to sing--
What sadder fate could any heart befall?
_Alas! dear child, never to sing at all_.

To sigh for pleasures flown.
To weep for withered flowers,
To count the blessings we have known,
Lost with the vanished hours--
What sadder fate could any heart befall?
_Alas! dear child, ne'er to have known them all_.

To dream of love and rest,
To know the dream has past,
To bear within an aching breast
Only a void at last--
What sadder fate could any heart befall?
_Alas! dear child, ne'er to have loved at all_.

To trust an unknown good,
To hope, but all in vain,
Over a far-off bliss to brood,
Only to find it pain--
What sadder fate could any soul befall?
_Alas! dear child, never to hope at all_.

ANONYMOUS.

THE SONG OF THE SAVOYARDS.

Far poured past Broadway's lamps alight,
The tumult of her motley throng.
When high and clear upon the night
Rose an inspiring song.
And rang above the city's din
To sound of harp and violin;
A simple but a manly strain,
And ending with the brave refrain--
Courage! courage, mon camarade!

And now where rose that song of cheer.
Both old and young stood still for joy;
Or from the windows hung to hear
The children of Savoy:
And many an eye with rapture glowed,
And saddest hearts forgot their load,
And feeble souls grew strong again,
So stirring was the brave refrain--
Courage! courage, mon camarade!

Alone, with only silence there,
Awaiting his life's welcome close,
A sick man lay, when on the air
That clarion arose;
So sweet the thrilling cadence rang,
It seemed to him an angel sang,
And sang to him; and he would fain
Have died upon that heavenly strain--
Courage! courage, mon camarade!

A sorrow-stricken man and wife,
With nothing left them but to pray,
Heard streaming over their sad life
That grand, heroic lay:
And through the mist of happy tears
They saw the promise-laden years;
And in their joy they sang again,
And carolled high the fond refrain--
Courage! courage, mon camarade!

Two artists, in the cloud of gloom
Which hung upon the