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She knows, that though the flood
Yet there's a lonely fear
Then comes that hope to bless,
DUBLIN, FROM THE PHENIX PARK.
WHOEVER has gazed upon the Capital of Ireland from the noble area of the Phænis Park, has beheld a scene, which, in its kind, is perhaps scarcely to be surpassed within the British Empire. The park itself possesses many and great beauties. Its surface is varied by numerous glens and dells, which are overshadowed by the graceful branches of the birch and weeping-ash. Many stately forest-trees occupy its northern side ; while its more central portion, comparatively free from wood, presents an extensive
This area, however, is finely diversified by picturesque clusters of limes and elms; while the noble avenues which are kept clear for the accommodation of the public, lie in long perspective, before the eye of the admiring spectator; reminding him, especially
DUBLIN, FROM THE PHENIX PARK.
when the sun-beams glance between the trunks and branches of the surrounding forest-trees, of some of the noble woodland landscapes which glow on the canvas of Rubens. By some tourists, this magnificent park has been thought to resemble, from some points of view, that of Greenwich. The only defect which the most fastidious visitor can discover in this far-famed place of public resort, consists in the want of a more abundant supply of water. Art, however, has done her utmost to supply the lack of that, which, above all else, gives life and light to a landscape, by so gathering together the waters of the existing streams, as to cause them to form two small lakes, distinguished by the names of the Upper and Lower Ponds. These artificial pieces of water are of considerable depth, and are well stocked with fish. They are also surrounded by gracefully sloping banks, thickly planted with ornamental trees, and flowering shrubs; while, here and there, a cottage or moss-house, peeping forth from amidst the surrounding foliage, overhangs the margin of the lake, and is reflected in its limpid waters.
The views commanded from various stations in the Phønix Park, are particularly grand. Towards the south, the high grounds of Kilmainham, many handsome villas, together with a portion of the suburbs of Dublin, backed by the lofty and picturesque mountains of Wicklow, constitute a scene of surpassing magnificence.
On a late occasion, however, the scenery within this noble Park so engrossed the attention of the public, as to render them utterly unmindful of the rich prospects beyond it. An ordinary review in the Phenix Park presents no common attraction; but such a review as that which took place in the “Fifteen Acres," on the 10th of August, 1819, was probably never witnessed there before, since Henry II. made Ireland his own. On that memorable day, the human tide began to flow at day-break towards the rich level plain which bears the name of the "Fifteen Acres;” and swelled onwards, as each successive hour advanced, till the whole length of the way presented one compact mass of loyal sight-seers, on horseback, and on foot, and in every species of locomotive vehicle. Some parties in carriages, in order to secure a good position, had even spent the previous night on the review-ground. From eight till ten o'clock in the morning, the scene presented could scarcely be equalled by the most crowded portion of the road from London to Epsom, on the most crowded race-day. So great was the demand for carriages, that broken-down cars, which to all appearance had been used as hen-coops, were yoked by decrepit “car-boys” to yet more decrepit horses, and obtained their share of the inordinate fares everywhere asked and given. To find a disengaged vehicle in Dublin on that day, would have been an impossibility. As for pedestrians, their name was legion; the frieze of the peasant from the hills, mingling with the holyday suit of the Dublin mechanic. The whole surrounding population forsook their homes, and, converging from all points of the compass, ranged themselves around the “ Fifteen Acres,” in the hope of catching but a glimpse of Queen Victoria. Some clustered in the trees around; trusting their lives, in many instances, to the tender branches of saplings, which seemed too weak to bear the weight of an infant. At length-about nine o'clock-the crash and clangour of military music was heard on every side ; while
the gleaming of arms—and the waving of standards were visible in all the great thoroughfares through which the troops marched to the ground. There were the solid columns of the Infantry in their scarlet and gray; the gay Lancers fluttering on the field, “ the very butterflies of war;" the Hussars in their brilliant uniform, flashing with steel and gold; there was the ponderous roll of the field artillery, which, while cutting deep into the green-sward, contrived nevertheless to move as nimbly as the mounted horsemen by their side; then came the splendid squadrons of the Enniskillens, and the sombre masses of the constabulary force, in their dress of dark green ;-andat length-seated in an open barouche, and accompanied by the royal children—there came—THE QUEEN.
The field, at this instant, presented a most brilliant appearance. Prince Albert, mounted on a magnificent charger, and wearing the uniform of a Field Marshal, with a glittering star, rode by the Queen's side. The extended line of Infantry showed their serried bayonets flashing in the sunlight; the dense bodies of Cavalry were stationed near; while the artillery was posted at the two extremities of the field. Then came the rapid evolutions of the different regiments, and the thunder of the firing; and at last, the whole mass of the troops, moving forward to the music of the regimental bands, charged bayonets, and rushed onwards at double-quick time, to the sound of a war-cry, half British cheer, and half Irish hurrah, halting only about twenty yards from the royal carriage. Then the bands pealed forth the National Anthem; and the assembled troops gave three tremendous cheers, which were re-echoed by the crowd near the Queen's carriage, and prolonged by thousands of voices along the lines.
Such was the loyal greeting which awaited the Queen, when she showed herself to her Irish subjects, on the long-to-be-remembered tenth of August, 1849, in the Phenix PARK, NEAR DUBLIN.
BLACK ROCK CASTLE, NEAR CORK.
Some portions of the County of Cork present an aspect of wild magnificence, scarcely to be paralleled, perhaps, in Europe. The western side of the county, washed by the fresh waves of the Atlantic, is indented by noble harbours; and presents, in many parts, firm and unbroken sands extending for miles, and skirted, landward, by numerous rocky caves,
"Spell-strewn, and consecrate of old to some Undine's love." In the central part of this extensive county, the tourist in search of the picturesque finds a region in which the spirit of Salvator Rosa might "wander with delight.” Vast mountain-ranges here extend themselves in every direction ; concealing among their fastnesses, numerous small loughs, or lakes, of enchanting beauty. Solitude,