THE FOUR-LEAVED SHAMROCK.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume II, Issue 66, 1 August 1874, Page 13

THE FOUR-LEAVED SHAMROCK.

BY. " MTXO " O* THB NATIOJT. Old rhymers tell of a magic spell In the four-leaved shamrock steeped i 1 the dew, But here it lies, underneath my eyes, And what can its vaunted virtues do ? Can it make life last, or revoke the past, Can it ease the canker of -care and pain? Or light up the gloom beyond the tomb, Or the hope of youth in our blood again ? Can it dry the tears of long, long years, Or fond heartß parted unite once more ? Or, when passions roll round the troubled soul, The calm and the sunshine of peace restore ? When a death-dark pall, and the tyrants' thrall, Hang over a nation in quick decay, Can it touch its heart, and bid life restart, Or rend from its limbs the fetters away ? Could it give the pow'r, in this fleeting hour, To glad sad hearts with a life of bliss, I would yield it thrice told, this hour to behold Poor Ireland's joy in a balm like this — To restore her Chiefs from their prison griefß, To behold her creed and her children free, And the earth might roll in weeds and dole— This sight were all earthly bliss to me. Oh, 'tis sweet to stand on our native land, When the night mists rise and the dawn appears, And again to behold, from her mountains bold, The graves and skrines of two thousand years. But dearer far to trace Freedom's star, 'Mid chains, and gloom, aad cold sceptic scorn, Till we see it shed its light on the head Of a risen Chief, like a Saviour born! But, frail leaf, you possess not this power to bless ; 'Tis alone in the hearts and minds of men ; When our feuds give place, a united race May rise to Freedom, but not till then. Not in idle grief, nor in withering leaf, Not men dissevered like sea- washed sands; But with trust in God, on their native sod, And their naked swords in their red right hands-