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HYLAND'S MAMMOTH |
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And for music! oh, who that has once heard the numbers Set free to the winds by the magic of Moore,
But exults that the spell which encircled its slumbers, And chilled the sweet Harp of his country, is o'er?
If it be but a fable that, far in thy mountains,
Deep hidden by fairies lie treasures untold— Oh, 'tis but to appeal to thy heart's open fountain,
To find them o'erflown with—better than gold! Land of brave sons and of light-hearted daughters,
Smooth may the stream of thy destiny be! "First flower" mayst thou bloom on the breast of the waters.
"First gem" mayst thou shine on the home of the sea! |
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THE FAIR HILLS OF IRELAND.
A plenteous place is Ireland for hospitable cheer,
Uileacan dubh O! Where the wholesome fruit is bursting from the yellow barley-ear;
Uileacan dubh O! There Is honey in the trees where her misty vales expand, And her forest paths, in summer, are by falling waters fanned; There is dew at high noontide there, and springs i' the yellow sand,
On the fair hills of holy Ireland. Curled he is and ringletted, and plaited to the knee,
Uileacan dubh O! Each captain who comes sailing across the Irish sea,
Ulleacan dabh O! And I will make my journey, if life and health but stand, Unto tbat pleasant country, that fresh and fragrant strand, And leave your boasted braveries, your wealth and high command,
For the fair hills of holy Ireland. Large and profitable are the stacks upon the ground,
Uileacan duhh O! The butter and cream do wondrously abound,
Uileacan dubh O! The cresses on the water and the sorrels are at hand. And the cuckoo's calling daily his note of music bland, And the bold thrush sings so bravely his song to the forests grand, On the fair hills of holy Ireland. |
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ERIN'S LOVELY HOME.
When I was young and in iny prime, my age just twenty-on'e,
I acted as a servant unto a gentleman;
I served him true and honest, and very well, it's known,
But in cruelty he banished me from Erin's Lovely Home.
For what he did banish me I mean to let you hear:
I own I loved his daughter, and she loved me as dear,
She had a large fortune, and riches I had none,
And that the reason I must go from Erin's lovely Home.
'Twas in her father's garden, all in the month of June,
We were viewing of those flowers all in their youthful bloom;
She said, "My dearest William, if with me you will roam,
We'll hid adieu to all our friends, in Erin's Lovely Home."
I gave consent that very night along with her to roam
From her father's dwelling—it proved my overthrow;
The night was bright; by the moonlight we both set off alone,
Thinking to get safe away from Erin's Lovely Home.
When we came to Belfast, by the break of day,
My love, she then got ready our passage for to pay;
Five thousand pounds she counted down, saying, "This shall be your
own, But do not mourn for those we've left in Erin's Lovely Home." *Tts of our sad misfortune I mean to let you hear; 'Twas in a few hours after, her father did appear; He marched me hack to Homer jail, in the county of Tyrone, And there I was transported from Erin's Lovely Home. |
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