MY
BROTHER’S GRAVE.
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While
now the sun’s declining ray
Is faintly o’er Slievegallin
thrown,
Leaving the last pale streaks of day,
Light gleaming in the west
alone.
Beside my Brother’s Grave I stand,
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Surrounded
by an ivied wall,
O’er which, time’s fell-destroying hand,
No more impressively can
fall!
For Ruin long has marked the spot
Where DEZERTLIN once proudly
rose—
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But
now neglected, and forgot,
’Midst Erin’s
wrongs, and Erin’s woes.
Then calmly sleep, my brother, here,
Where o’er thy head
the brier bends, [Page 153]
Now sprinkled by a falling tear,
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Which
sorrow from the bosom sends.
And may the sycamore long fling
Its sacred shade, in leafy
pride,
Along thy grave, till death shall bring
My heart to moulder by thy
side.
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And here, where thousands sleep around,
For ages in their dreary
bed,
We’ll rest, beneath this little mound,
’Till God’s
last mandate wake the dead! [Page 154]
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