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Those who plot the destruction of others often perish in the attempt.

For, bless the gude mon, gin he had his ain way, He's na let a cat on the Sabbath say "mew;" Nae birdie maun whistle, nae lambie maun play, An' Phoebus himsel' could na travel that day, As he'd find a new Joshua in Andie Agnew.

It seem'd as if each thought and look And motion were that minute chain'd Fast to the spot such root she took, And--like a sunflower by a brook, With face upturn'd--so still remain'd!

And the heart that is soonest awake to the flowers Is always the first to be touch'd by the thorns.

But the trail of the serpent is over them all.

In Adam's fall-- We sinned all.

Young Timothy Learnt sin to fly.

Where bastard Freedom waves Her fustian flag in mockery over slaves.

O, the Shamrock, the green, immortal Shamrock! Chosen leaf OF Bard and Chief, Old Erin's native Shamrock.

Like ships that have gone down at sea, When heaven was all tranquillity.

Now in his Palace of the West, Sinking to slumber, the bright Day, Like a tired monarch fann'd to rest, 'Mid the cool airs of Evening lay; While round his couch's golden rim The gaudy clouds, like courtiers, crept-- Struggling each other's light to dim, And catch his last smile e'er he slept.

There written all Black as the damning drops that fall From the denouncing Angel's pen, Ere Mercy weeps them out again.

To-morrow the dreams and flowers will fade.

Oh, colder than the wind that freezes Founts, that but now in sunshine play'd, Is that congealing pang which seizes The trusting bosom, when betray'd.

Oh, for a tongue to curse the slave Whose treason, like a deadly blight, Comes o'er the councils of the brave, And blasts them in their hour of might!

Then should some cloud pass over The brow of sire or lover, Think 'tis the shade By Victory made Whose wings right o'er us hover!

Hath the pearl less whiteness Because of its birth? Hath the violet less brightness For growing near earth?

Steals timidly away, Shrinking as violets do in summer's ray.

Wert thou all that I wish thee, great, glorious and free, First flower of the earth, and first gem of the sea.

I am nothing and to nothing tend, On earth I nothing have and nothing claim, Man's noblest works must have one common end, And nothing crown the tablet of his name.