﻿920
AN GAOḊAL.
She owned that she a talebearer had been,
And bore a bit of scandal up and down
To all the long-tongued gossips of the town
The holy father for her other sin,
Granted the absolution asked of him,
But while he for the rest pardon gave,
And that to do fit penence she must go
Out by the wayside where thistles grow,
And gathering the largest, ripest one,
Scatter its seeds, and when this was done
She must come back another day
To tell him his commands she did obey.
The woman thinking this a penance light,
Hastened to do his will that very night,
Feeling right glad she had escaped so well
Next day but one she went the priest to tell.
The priest sat still and heard her story through,
Then said “There’s something still for you to do
Those little thistle seeds which you have sown,
I bid you go re-gather every one."
The woman said “ but father, ’twould be vain,
To try to gather up those seeds again.
The winds have scattered them both far and wide
Over the meadowed vale and mountain side.
The father answered, "Now I hope that from this
The lesson I have taught, you will not miss,
You cannot gather back the scattered seeds,
Which far and wide will grow to noxious weeds,
Nor can the mischlef once by scandal sown,
By any penance be again undone.
— Tuam News
SEAMUS GREAGARAIḊE.
Like "Little Stack of Bailey."
Air ;— An Spealadóir. ?
A Ṡéamuis ḃeirim mo beannaċt duit
Ó ṫárla 'n foġṁar crapaḋ agad,
Cuir asteaċ na fataiḋe
Agus taḃair a ḃaile an ṁóin,
No go ḃ-fáiḋ mé mo ċuid airgid
Agus ceannóċaiḋ mise bróga maiṫ',
Mo ċiaraḋ eidir baintreaċa
Ní ḟanfaiḋ mé níos mó,
Go d-téiġ mé 'maċ go Connamara,
An áit a ḃ-fuil na cailíniḋe,
A deunaḋ rinc leo 'gus frailic
Asteaċ go tiġ an óil,
Ní ḟillfiḋ mé ċo ḟad 's ṁeirfeas mé,
Ní luġṁar liom an macṁalaċtan
Nó na stróinsiġ cailliġ malluiġṫe
A tá raṫa le mo ṫóin.
Mo ġráḋ go beul na cairige,
Ḃí dídin agus fasgaḋ ann,
Ní breug naċ maiṫ an faḋṁar
A ḃí agam ann le fáġail,
Ḃí mo ḃa le seolaḋ 'maċ agam,
Na gaḃair le bleáġan ṫarc agam,
Na h-uain le cuir asteaċ agam,
'San ain-ḟir liom air láiṁ;
'Sa Riġ na ḃ-fear go d-tagaiḋ tú
'Gus go d-tóigiḋ tú ar an m-beallaċ mé,
A b-páirt éigin de 'n doṁan.
A n-áit naċ m-béiḋ mé acu ann,
Fór ḃeurfaḋ siad air teangas
Agus ḃualfaḋ siad air an malaiḋe me
'S ní ḋeunaim-se aċt breaṫnuġaḋ
Anns an taoḃ a m-bíḋeann siad ann.
Mo ṁáistreas atá ann aice liom,
Dar m' ḟocal is maiṫ an tarraḋ í,
Léiġfeaḋ sí genealogy
Air ṫoġaḋ a ḃ-fuil le fáġail.
Tá 'n rule a three by heart aice.
'S gaċ aon rud eile ann aice sin,
Ní airiġim gnoṫaiḋe fairige
A ṡeolfaḋ mé de 'n Spáinn;
('Sa Riġ na ḃ-fear go dtagaiḋ tú
'S go dtigiḋ tú ar an m-bealaċ mé
A d-taoḃ éigin de 'n doṁan
N-áit naċ m-béiḋ mé aici ann'.
Mar mbeiḋeaḋ mo leaḃar in mo ġlaic
[agam
'S gaċ aon niḋ eile ann aice sin
Beiḋeaḋ an teangas 'gus an t slat aice
Leagṫaḋ faoi mo ṡrón.
From the dictation of Mr John Kane of West¬
port, county Mayo. I have repeated for lines in
the last verse in order to fill up as that is all that
he knew of it, —
J J LYONS.
Beware of the English spies; it is
said that they are here in hundreds
trying to break up the National Leag¬
ue and kindred patriotic societies by
fomenting strife among the leaders.
Beware of him who seeks leadership,
writes to the press in disparagement
of the recognized leaders, and, also,
of the Irish-American papers that pub¬
lish their writing, they being subsidiz¬
ed by the Le Carrons.
MOTHERS ! Don’t Fail To Procure Mrs.
Winlow's SOOTHING SYRUP For Your Chil¬
dren While Cutting Teeth.
It soothes the child, softens the gums, allays
all pain, cures wind colic, and is the best remedy
or diarrhoea.
TWENTY-FIVE CENTS a BOTTLE.
