UNHAPPY Erin, what a lot was thine! Half-conquer'd by a greedy robber band; Ill govern'd with now lax, now ruthless hand; Misled by zealots, wresting laws divine To sanction every dark or mad design; Lured by false lights of pseudo-patriot league Through crooked paths of faction and intrigue; And drugg'd with selfish flattery's poison'd wine. Yet, reading all thy mournful history, Thy children, with a mystic faith sublime, Turn to the future, confident that Fate, Become at last thy friend, reserves for thee, To be thy portion in the coming time, They know not what -- but surely something great. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...STANZAS by GEORGE GORDON BYRON I SIT AND SEW by ALICE RUTH MOORE DUNBAR-NELSON GIVE ME THY HEART by ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 119 by ALFRED TENNYSON THE CAUTIOUS HOUSEHOLDER by ANAXILAS CHILDREN OF LIGHT by BERNARD BARTON |