AN GAOḊAL.
571
THE SHAN VAN VOCT.
(From THE TUAM NEWS)
Ho! the landlord’s power is done
Says the Shan Van Vocht,
No more we'll fear his frown,
Says the Shan Van Vocht,
Nor his fierce malicious glare,
Nor his dark and sullen stare,—
For his worst we now can dare,
Says the Shan Van Vocht.
They say now he’s on the road
Says the Sean Ḃean Ḃoċt,
That is very snort and broad,
Says the Sean Ḃean Ḃoċt,
Where his footing he must pay
Where he cannot lead astray,
For 'tis Davitt shows the way,
Says the Sean Ḃean Ḃoct.
Then what will become of him ?
Says the Sean Ḃean Ḃoċt.
Then what will become of him ?
Says the Sean Ḃean Ḃoċt.
O! the bloody, lazy Turk.
Let him strip and go to work,
With his shovel, spade and fork,
Says the Sean Ḃean Ḃoċt,
Then I fear 'tis little pay,
Says the Sean Ḃean Ḃoċt,
He will earn any day,
Says the Sean Ḃean Ḃoċt,
How hard will be his lot,
When he looks into his pot,
And sees what he has got.
Says the Sean Ḃean Ḃoċt.
But hasn't he Goddard and his crew,
Says the Sean Ḃean Ḃoċt,
But hasn't he Goddard and his crew ?
Says the Sean Ḃean Ḃoċt,
Yes he had these boys before,
But they made his heart unite sore,
He showed them all the door,
Says the Sean Ḃean Ḃoċt
Ah! 'tis little that he thought,
Says the Sean Ḃean Ḃoċt,
When poor tenants he had brought,
Says the Sean Ḃean Ḃoċt,
To the depths of misery,
To extremes of poverty.
Or sent beyond the sea,
Says the Sean Ḃean Boċt,
That phoenix-like they'd rise,
Says the Sean Ḃean Ḃoċt.
That phoenix-like they'd rise,
Says the Sean Ḃean Ḃoċt.
His tyranny to brave,
From far beyond the wave,
Or from their ashes in the grave,
Says the Sean Ḃean Ḃoċt.
Then let us be up and doing,
Says the Sean Ḃean Ḃoċt,
Then let us be up and doing,
Says the Sean Ḃean Ḃoċt,
Let us be freemen once again,
Over valley, hill and plain,
Till we break each servile chain,
Says the Sean Ḃean Ḃoċt.
And have freedom's flag unfurled,
Says the Sean Ḃean Ḃoċt,
From each quarter of the world,
Says the Sean Ḃean Ḃoċt,
Where e'er the Gael does roam —
Where e'er he has his home,
On mountain, vale or foam,
Says the Sean Ḃean Ḃoct.
To uphold our country's cause,
Says the Sean Ḃean Ḃoċt,
For just and righteous laws,
Says the Sean Ḃean Ḃoct,
For homes and altars free,
We must strike for liberty,
And be one in unity,
Says the Sean Ḃean Ḃoċt.
Then let us drink to those,
Says the Sean Ḃean Ḃoċt,
Who now oppose our foes,
Says the Sean Ḃean Ḃoċt,
Parnell and his band,
Who's made the last great stand,
To free our dear old land.
Says the Sean Ḃean Ḃoċt,
WILLIAM BURNS.
Ballyturn, Gort, Feb, 1886.
EDITORIAL SALARIES — Col. McClure and Mr. Mc-
Laughlin of the Phila. Times, get $12,000. Mr.
Dana, of the New York Sun. Mr. Reed of the
Tribune, and Mr. Curtis, of Harpers Weekly, get
a salary of $10,000 a year. Mr. Dana gets also a
percentage of the profits. — Wilks arre Record:
