When that cup, which for others the proud Golden City' Had brimm'd full of bitterness, drench'd her own lips, And the world she had trampled on, heard, without pity, The howl in her halls, and the cry from her ships. When the curse Heaven keeps for the haughty came over, Her merchants rapacious, her rulers unjust, And a ruin, at last, for the earth-worm to covers, The Lady of Kingdoms lay low in the dust. 4 "How hath the oppressor ceased! the golden city ceased." Isaiah xiv. 4. 54 Thy pomp is brought down to the grave......and the worms cover thee." Isaiah xiv. 11. 6 "Thou shalt no more be called the Lady of Kingdoms." Isaiah xlvii. 5. DRINK OF THIS CUP. AIR-Paddy O'Rafferty. DRINK of this cup-you'll find there's a spell in Her cup was a fiction, but this is reality. But would you rise above earth, till akin To immortals themselves, you must drain every Send round the cup-for, oh! there's a spell in Her cup was a fiction, but this is reality. Never was philter form'd with such power To charm and bewilder as this we are quaffing; Its magic began when, in Autumn's rich hour, As a harvest of gold in the fields it stood laughing. There, having by nature's enchantment been fill'd With the balm and the bloom of her kindliest weather, This wonderful juice from its core was distill'd, To enliven such hearts as are here brought together! Then drink of the cup-you'll find there's a spell in Its every drop 'gainst the ills of mortalityTalk of the cordial that sparkled for Helen, Her cup was a fiction, but this is reality. And though, perhaps but breathe it to no one Like cauldrons the witch brews at midnight so awful, In secret this philter was first taught to flow on, Yet 'tisn't less potent for being unlawful. What, though it may taste of the smoke of that flame, Which in silence extracted its virtue forbid den Fill up there's a fire in some hearts I could name, Which may work too its charm, though now lawless and hidden, So drink of the cup-for, oh! there's a spell in Its every drop 'gainst the ills of mortalityTalk of the cordial, that sparkled for Helen, Her cup was a fiction, but this is reality. THE FORTUNE-TELLER. DOWN IN THE VALLEY COME MEET ME. AIR-Open the Door softly. Down in the valley come meet me to-night, As ever 'twas told, by the new moon's light But, for the world, let no one be nigh, If at that hour the heavens be not dim, |