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124 HYLAND'S MAMMOTH
The lady with a tear began, and thus replied she:
"The fault is none of Reilly's, the blame lies all on me;
I forced him for to leave his place and come along with me,
I loved him out of measure, which wrought our destiny."
Out spoke the noble Fox, at the table he stood by,
"Oh! gentlemen, consider on this extremity;
To hang a man for love is a murder, you- may see,
So spare the life of Rellly, let him leave this counterie."
"Good, my lord, he stole from her, her diamonds and her rings.
Gold watch and silver buckles, and many precious things,
Which cost me in bright guineas more than five hundred pounds—
I'll have the life of Reilly should I lose ten thousand pounds."
"Good, my lord, I gave them him as tokens of true' love,
And when we are a-partlng I will them all remove,
If you have got them, Reilly, pray send them home to me."
"I will, my loving lady, with many thanks to thee."
"There Is a ring among them I allow yourself to wear,
With thirty locket diamonds well set in silver fair,
And as a true-love token wear it on your right band,
That you'll think on my poor broken heart when you're in a foreign land."
Then out spoke noble Fox, "You may let the prisoner go.
The lady's oath has cleared him, as the jury all may know;
She has released her own true love, she has renewed his name,
May her honor bright gain high estate, and her offspring rise to fame!"
THE MAIDS OF MERRY IRELAND.
, Oh, the maids of merry Ireland, so beautiful and fair,
With eyes like diamonds sparkling, and richly flowing hair, Their hearts are light and cheerful, and their spirits ever gay, The maids of merry Ireland, how beautiful are they!
They are like the lovely flowers in summer time that bloom, On the sportive breezes shedding their choice and sweet perfume, Our eyes and hearts delighting with their varied array, The maids of merry Ireland, how beautiful are they!
They smile when we are happy, when we are sad they sigh; When anguish wrings our bosoms, the tear they gently dry; Oh, happy is the nation that owns their tender sway, The maids of merry Ireland, how beautiful are they!
Then ever like true patriots may we join both heart and hand, To protect the lovely maidens of this our fatherland; And that Heaven may ever bless them, we all devoutly pray, Oh, the maids of merry Ireland, how beautiful are they!
WHAT WILL YOU DO, LOVE?
What would you do, love, when I am going,
With white sails flowing, the seas beyond? What will you do, love, when waves divide us,
And friends may chide us for being fond? Tho' waves divide us and friends be chiding,
In faith abiding I'll still be true, And I'll pray for thee on the stormy ocean,
In deep devotion—that's what I'll do. What would you do, love, if distant tidings
Thy fond confldings should undermine, And I, abiding 'neath sultry skies,
Should think other eyes were as bright as thine? Oh! name it not!—tho' guilt and shame
Were on thy name—I'd still be true! But that heart of thine should another share it,
I could not bear it—what would I do? What would you do, love, when home returning.
With hopes high 'burning, with wealth for you, If my bark, which bounded o'er foreign foam.
Should be lost near boms—ah! what v ouid y»u 4s? |
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