A
FUGITIVE GARLAND,
TO BE STREWN ON THE STRANGE GRAVE
OF GEORGE F. COOKE, THE “IRISH ROSCIUS.”
Non
ego te meis Chartis inornatum silebo.
Tolve tuos patiar honores impune, carpere lividas
obliviones.
HORACE.
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Here
have I come, with reverential tread,
O’er many a grave
that throngs this sacred spot,
To seek thy Tomb, among the unknown dead,
Who sleep around—unmourned—and
long forgot.
And there’s a feeling—such as hearts
like mine
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Alone
may feel—comes trembling through my frame,
While now I trace the Demon-defaced line
That bears, oh COOKE! thy
much insulted name!
But though some impious hand has dared to touch
The marble block thy FRIEND
erected here— [Page 180]
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There
is a pyramid to thee—and such
As pale-faced envy never
can come near.
That pyramid is Fame’s—and her great
hand
Displays the banner Genius
o’er thee hung,
When, in obedience to her high command,
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Nations
were captives to thy magic tongue!
Yet, I’ve a hope, that ere a distant day,
Some spirit, prompted by
indulgent heaven,
Will safely to that Isle thy bones convey,
Where first the mountain-breeze
of life was given. |
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And this exotic plant*—this
lonely one—
Sole verdure, budding on
this naked mound, [Page 181]
I will translate—that, e’en when I am
gone,
It may, to deck thy future
grave, be found—
Where it will flourish long in honoured rest—
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No
foot to bruise or soil its tender frame—
Nor folded reptile slumber on its breast,
But freshly bloom with COOKE’S
undying name! [Page 182] |
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*
The only verdure I could find on the hallowed grave
of COOKE was a solitary Shamrock, which seemed to
have taken shelter close by the corner of the monument,
as the faithful representative of the tragedian’s
country. Unwilling, therefore, that it should be
exposed to such wreck and abuse as some foul hands
have already inflicted on the monument, I have deprived
St. Paul, of New York, of this respected emblem
of St. Patrick, by conveying it to my own
temporary abode, and shall finally plant it on the
green summit of the flowery mantled Slievegallin,
in the county of Derry—where it may once more
imbibe the dew of a friendlier sky, and spread forth
its little blossoms to the fairy breezes of its
native mountains. [back] |
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