AN GAOḊAL.
337
Go ḃ-fuil mé ḟéin lag, buaḋarṫa, tinn,
Ṫiucfaḋ scata aca aleig in aoinfeaċt,
Faoi eaċraib glégeal & cóistiġe cinn :
Ḋeunfaidís banais ḋam flea & feusta,
'S ḃeiḋeaḋ againn féin gaċ aon sórt
ceoil,
Agus go m-beiḋeaḋ ḋá 'r ḋeug acu air
meisge i n-aoinfeaċt
Aig teaċ Tom Deliġ le fíon & le beoir.
This song was composed by Peter Jourdan, who
was obliged to leave his home at the foot of Nephin
and take refuge in disguise at Achill and in Wild
districts of the sea-coast, to avoid being arrested
for treason against the English crown.
M. Gallagher
We print this song by request of Mr. P. M. Gal¬
lagher of Cortland, Ill., and we thank Miss Galla¬
gher of Chicago, for both it and the translation.
DÁN —
AN Ċraoiḃín aoiḃinn do ċan.
Tógfamuid, tógfamuid
Puirt agus ceol,
Go molfamuid, molfamuid
Dia na n-dúl.
Go seinnfimid, seinnfimid
Maiteas ar Ríġ,
Go d-tiúḃramuid, d-tiúḃramuid
Glóir dó a ċoiḋċ',
Agus go sgriosfamuid
Cealga na n-diaḃal
Agus go g-cuirfimid
iad air g-cúl.
Agus díbreomuid
Iad amaċ,
Agus onóramuid
Dia tar ċáċ.
Prionnsa na b-prionnsa!
Ḋearc sé air rioċt
Gráineaṁuil, inse
Na n-Éireannaċ boċt.
Millfiḋ sé Sacsan
Gan trócaire d'ḟáġail,
'S árdóċaiḋ seision
Arís Innis Fáil.
A n-dóċas an lae sin
Seinnfimid dó,
A's molfamuid Eision,
Dia go deo!
Translation
By MICHAEL CAVANAGH.
SONG, — By CHRAOIBHIN AOIBHINN.
We'll raise up, we'll lift up.
Our hearts and our song;
Our praises we'll offer
Jehovah the strong !
With spirits rejoicing,
We'll thank the good king;
For ever unceasing,
His glory we'll sing.
The demon of evil
We'll cast from our mind; —
His fetters well shatter
And fling them behind.
We'll banish the tempters
That wrought our downfall;
And honor we'll render
To God above all.
Oh, PRINCE of all princes!
Behold from your throne
Poor Erin in torture, —
Oh, list to her moan!
Crush down without mercy
The foes of the Gael;
And raise in her splendor
Our loved Innisfail!
Then free hearts we'll raise up
To Him we adore
We'll praise and give glory
To GOD evermore!
New Publications.
Edward O'Donnell.
A story of Ireland of our day, by O'Donovan
Rossa, S. W. Green's Son 69 Beekman st. N. Y.,
publisher.
The above is one of the most interesting novels
we have read in a long time. It vividly places be¬
fore the reader's mind the thrilling incidents borne
of the unnatural relations which unfortunately ex¬
ist between the governing and governed classes of
society in Ireland. We prophecy for the book a
large circulation.
It may interest some of our Pennsylvania readers
to know that Mr. J. J. Jourdan, publisher of that
really spicy journal, The Truth, Scranton, is a very
enthusiastic student of the Irish Language.
