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Article POETRY. Page 1 of 1 Article THE ENCHANTED LAKE. Page 1 of 2 →
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Poetry.
POETRY .
LINES . Our noble craft is wisely based On well judged mysteries , And each advancing step is traced Progressively by threes . First is the opening glimpse of light , Then the more high award ;
The third , in blest effulgence bright , Of both is the reward . So in the charities we claim , Exclusively our own , To feed and educate , our aim , Too long was only known . But in this great—this last degree
, Our charity has made , A higher , holier , thought we see , THE nobler third displayed . The orphan and the penniless Right well our help demand , — What Mason ever knew distress And could withhold his hand ?
From them we may expect return—From these , alas ! but one — The light from charity ' s pure urn , More brilliant than the sun . June 17 , 1840 . E DWARD R ALEIGH M OHAN
The Enchanted Lake.
THE ENCHANTED LAKE .
From " An Hour in Fairy Land . " THERE is in the west of Ireland a lake called the "Enchanted Lake , " whose depths are the supposed habitations of the " Good people . " In this lake many young men bad at various times been drowned , and what made the circumstance more remarkable was , that their bodies were never found . People at length wondered at this , and at last it was believed that the drowned young men were not drowned at all ,
but that they were taken by the Fairies , and kept there for their sweethearts . I suppose—at any rate it was supposed—that they were endowed with perpetual youth , and the place is called the Enchanted Lake to this day . I was told of a poor Irish girl whose lover was upset in a boat and lost upon this lake ; I endeavoured to console her in the accompanying song : — Ah ! linger not by that gloomy shore ,
The treasures beneath it come back no more ; I know the beloved of thy heart is there , That be sunk in the wave—but why despair ? They do not die who have sunk below , 'Tis but to the fairy realms they go ; Then , Norah , dear , for thy lover ' s sake Mourn not—he dwells in the fairy lake !
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
Poetry.
POETRY .
LINES . Our noble craft is wisely based On well judged mysteries , And each advancing step is traced Progressively by threes . First is the opening glimpse of light , Then the more high award ;
The third , in blest effulgence bright , Of both is the reward . So in the charities we claim , Exclusively our own , To feed and educate , our aim , Too long was only known . But in this great—this last degree
, Our charity has made , A higher , holier , thought we see , THE nobler third displayed . The orphan and the penniless Right well our help demand , — What Mason ever knew distress And could withhold his hand ?
From them we may expect return—From these , alas ! but one — The light from charity ' s pure urn , More brilliant than the sun . June 17 , 1840 . E DWARD R ALEIGH M OHAN
The Enchanted Lake.
THE ENCHANTED LAKE .
From " An Hour in Fairy Land . " THERE is in the west of Ireland a lake called the "Enchanted Lake , " whose depths are the supposed habitations of the " Good people . " In this lake many young men bad at various times been drowned , and what made the circumstance more remarkable was , that their bodies were never found . People at length wondered at this , and at last it was believed that the drowned young men were not drowned at all ,
but that they were taken by the Fairies , and kept there for their sweethearts . I suppose—at any rate it was supposed—that they were endowed with perpetual youth , and the place is called the Enchanted Lake to this day . I was told of a poor Irish girl whose lover was upset in a boat and lost upon this lake ; I endeavoured to console her in the accompanying song : — Ah ! linger not by that gloomy shore ,
The treasures beneath it come back no more ; I know the beloved of thy heart is there , That be sunk in the wave—but why despair ? They do not die who have sunk below , 'Tis but to the fairy realms they go ; Then , Norah , dear , for thy lover ' s sake Mourn not—he dwells in the fairy lake !