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THE YOUNG MAN'S DREAM.

BY EDWARD LAWSON.

In a dream of delusion, methought I was laid,

By a brook overarched with a fluttering shade;
A delicious recess, where silver-tongued rills,

And far cataracts deep roar echoed round from the hills : Gleaming fish in clear waters were wontonly playing, And hoarse murmuring bees o'er wild flow'rets were

straying ; While sweet honey distilled from old oaks to regale,

The young and the fair in that odorous vale.

A beautiful bird on a blossomy spray,

Was warbling a varied and rapturous lay;
As I listened entranced in delightful surprise,
A lovely enchantress astonished my eyes ;

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Do bhiodhz, do phrea̸b An Kinxhir mha̸ordha

A's labhair go réimh de chomhrádh cháóín ; "A thozha na bh-feár mo slád ná déun-si

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“'s gur ma̸íghdeán mé casadh a'd líon,

" bidh-si ciontách le cám le clon-bheart

"◊ thóim A'm Konár Áir mo chliu bhukin díom,

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Oir ghea̸bháinn-si bás trídh níire An sgeil sin

"Ho❜m gheilt do bhéidhinn-si Kir feadh mo shKoighil.”

A thoghá ná mbán, ná tuig-si féin,

do shlad go n-déánfa̸inn Kir Ken t-slighe,

le cám, le cleás, ná le bea̸rtáibh cla̸ona,

Oir tá mác dé Aguinn ós cionn Kg t-sKóíghil. ; Cuirim-si m'ímpidhe chum ígh ná gréine

A's chum zách ¶Komh eile zhábhánn le Críost, Tu-s Agus me-si bheith ag á chéile,

A mhaighdion mháordha, air feadh Ar sáóízhil.

A phlúir ná m-bán—a dheallradh ná scéimhe,
Hí fhásfáidh féur gla̸s tré thAlamh A níos,
Hi bhiadh teás a̸nn ná nea̸rt ná gréine,

Agus ní bhiadh réultá Ann K d-tosách óídhch',—

Her cheeks like the quicken's rich clusters were glowing,

Her amber silk locks to her white ancles flowing;

Like a keen freezing star gleamed each sparkling blue

eye,

Alas ! in one month, for her loss, I must die.

When first she descried me, she startled, alarmed,

And with coy supplication my sympathy charmed :

" Oh favoured of men ! do not ruin a maid,

By fate to your power unprotected betrayed;

For with sorrow and shame broken hearted I'd die,

Or for life thro' wild desarts a lunatic fly.”—

“Oh, peerless perfection ! how canst thou believe,

That I could such innocence hurt or deceive?

I implore the Great Fountain of glory and love,
And all the blessed saints in their synod above;

That connubial affections our souls may combine,

And the pearl of her sex be immutably mine.

The green grass shall not grow, nor the sun shed his

light, Nor the fair moon and stars gem the forehead of night;

Hí dhéanfaidh An gheálách solus d'ém-neach,

'S ní bheidh éisg Ann Kir muir nó Air ár,

Beidh Aghaidh zách srutha̸ A g-coinne ná sléibhte

Tráth bheidhead-sá claon duit, A zhrádh mo chroídhe !

Táréis zách gealladh d’K d-tugás féin di,

Phoz mé béilín zo dlúith Krís,

Leáz mé lámh Kir A bra̸gha̸id bhreágh, ghléigeal, A's rugás Km ghéúgáibh Kir rún mo chroidhe ;— '-ukir d'úmhluigh si zábháil liom már chéile,

bhidh mo chroídhe már éun ag dul le zkoíth; Trúí lár mo shúgradh do mhúscáil mé,

'Ymo chúmháidh nír bh' Kén rea̸d Kcht Kisling í.

The streams shall flow upward, the fish quit the sea,

Ere I shall prove faithless, dear angel to thee.”
Her ripe lip and soft bosom then gently I prest,
And clasped her half-blushing consent to my breast;
My heart fluttered light as a bird on the spray,-

But I woke, and alas, the vain dream fled away.

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