MONODY,
TO THE MEMORY OF THE RIGHT HON.
GEORGE CANNING.
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’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]
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*
Ireland. [back] |
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