The Irish Brummer. SURE en't I the drummer that goes to the fight? Only hear me with joy, and you'll be stunned with delight. The likes of my fame sure no mortal enjoys, For there's nobody makes such a thundering noise, Advancing the last, and retreating the first, 'Mongst heroes that follow and heroes that fly, If an uproar and clatter you hear, why, that's I! With my rub a dub, &c. Then the fun that you'd see, wid delight and surprize, If the smoke and the dust did not put out your eyes, Then, like herrings,-all smoked, from the field when we're come, And our battles abroad we are fighting at home, My share I contend for wid body and breath, Though I nobody kill'd, fait I stunn'd them to death, With my rub a dub, &c. DIBDIN. The Diver. "OH, where is the knight or the squire so bold To dive amid yon billowy din? I cast down a cup of the purest gold; Lo, how the whirlpool hath sucked it in! I grant the prize of that costly cup To the venturous hand that shall bear it up." The monarch he spake as he proudly stood And he plunged the cup in Charybdis' flood, "Now, who is so gallant of heart," he cried, They listened, that goodly company, And were mute both squire and knight; For they silently gaze on the wild, wild sea, And they dare not strive with the whirlpool's might. And the king, for the third time, loudly spake, "Will no man dive for his monarch's sake ?" But silently still they gaze and stand, Stepped lightly forth from the shuddering band And, lo! as he stands on the outermost verge, The struggling waves of the mighty surge, From the depths of muttering whirlpool rushing; And it hisses and eddies, and seethes and starts, Till the spray-dashing column to heaven updarts, Never exhausted, and never at rest, Like a new sea sprung from the old sea's breast. But the terrible storm is at length asleep! A fathomless chasm yawneth deep Such portal dream we to hell's dark way! Then, quick! ere the tempest again awakes, And a cry of horror from each lip breaks He is whirl'd in the whirling stream away! All smooth is the surface; beneath, is heard From lip to lip passes the trembling word, "God speed thee, young spirit, and dauntless breast!" Then they pause, and they listen right fearfully To the gathering howls of the hollow sea. King! if thou cast in thy crown of gold, gen!, Kingdom and crown for his own shall hold !" For how should a living soul reveal What the howling seas in their womb conceal? Full many a stately ship hath rush'd Down to yon bubbling wave, And mast and keel, all shatter'd and crush'd, And it hisses and eddies, and seethes and starts, Till the spray-dashing column to heaven updarts, Wave after wave everlastingly sending, Whose sound as the sound of thunder is, When they rush with a roar from their black abyss. But, see! what shines through the dark flood there, As a swan's soft plumage white? An arm and a glitteriug neck are bare, They busily move with a swimmer's might: He is breathing deep, he is breathing long, While merrily shout the rejoicing throng, "He lives, he is here, and the fierce wave quails! From the depth, where the waters battle and roll, The brave youth has brought back a living soul!" And he comes, while the gay troop cluster round, He bends at his sovereign's feet, And he gives him the cup, kneeling low on the ground! And the king hath beckon'd his daughter sweet, And she crowneth the beaker with wine's bright spring, While the bold youth speaks to the wondering king: 66 Long life to our monarch! and joy to those Who breathe in the light of the blushing sky! It is fearful there where the dark wave flows, Nor should man tempt the gods on high, Nor ever to seek those sights presume Which they graciously curtain with night and gloom. "Down, down I shot like a lightning-flash, "Then God, to whom I bitterly cried, Display'd, through the driving foamy blast "For the purple darkness of the deep under my feet like a precipice, hough here the ear must in deafness sleep, eye could look down the sheer abyss, |