MONODY,

TO THE MEMORY OF THE RIGHT HON. GEORGE CANNING.

 
’Tis the last of the great that has gone to his rest,
    And the death-note is heard o’er the billows afar—
The nations where liberty stands now confest
    Weep sadly the loss of this meteor-star.

And Albion sighs while she points to the spot,
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    That bears now inscribed her loved patriot’s name—
Her CANNING!—that statesman who never forgot
    What is due to mankind, and his country’s fame.

Now Liberty’s torch shall illumine his urn,
    And Erin her incense around it shall fling,
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Whilst praying for freedom!—and still to it turn,
    With a faith that incites her pure off’rings to bring. [Page 202]

’Tis an off’ring of hearts, as fixed, firm and brave,
    As the rock that withstands the rude surge from the deep,
And smiles at the foam, and the wide-spreading wave,
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    That loves the Green Isle in its bosom to steep.

Yet, her prayers shall be heard—for her KING he is just—
    And the land of Fitzgerald soon flourish again
’Mong the nations of earth—whilst low in the dust,
    Oppression shall struggle and gnaw her own chain.
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Oh, CANNING! the fountain of reason was thine,
    And the rights of mankind could thee ever inspire;
’Midst the world’s commotion—at liberty’s shrine,
    Thou never forgottest the loved land of thy Sire.*

From the bed of oppression, and tortures of pain,
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    Pale Frenzy, to ease the deep pangs of her mind,
Sought refuge from thee, nor sought she in vain,
    For thou touched every chord that vibrates on mankind.
    [Page 203]

But, Star of the West! now forever farewell—
    Thou art gone to illumine a happier sphere;
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Yet the light thou hast kindled shall still with us dwell,
    And thy name to posterity ever be dear. [Page 204]


* Ireland. [back]