Sir Walter Scott

Charles Phillips, "To Walter Scott, in consequence of his Invocation to Ireland, in the Vision of Don Roderick" Dublin Evening Post (16 November 1811).

Alas! Border Minstrel, the summons is vain,
For unstrung is the harp, and forgotten the strain,
Which Erin once sung in her pride;
And now robb'd of the glories that circled her reign,
To the heart-rending clank of a Conqueror's chain,
All tuneless, she wanders the desolate plain,
With the blood of her Patriot dyed.

Gone are the days when the western gale
Awoke ev'ry voice of the lake and the vale,
With the harp, and the lute, and the lyre;
When Justice uplifed her adamant shield,
While Valour and Freedom illumin'd the field
With a sword and a plumage of fire!

And now, Border Minstrel, the Bigot and Slave
Pollute the pure Land of the free-born and Brave,
The Land of the Sigh and the Smile!
Then accurs'd be the recreant heart that could sing,
And wither'd the hand that would waken the string,
Till the Angel of Liberty wave her wild wing
Again o'er the EMERALD ISLE!