Air ḃeaṫa na naoṁ do ċaiṫfinn mo ṡáoġal,
Annsa ḃaile ud a m-biḋinn mo ċoṁnuiġ;
Is ann do ṫig mínleaċ, seaṁaiḋ, suġ-craoḃ,
A ġiolcaċ, a fraoċ, 's a neoinín.
Seasgan d-tig cíob air, suairceas, 's aoiḃneas,
'Gus gleanntain dul ṫríḋ go ceolṁar ;
Ní h-ionnan a bíḋm 'sa taoḃ so de 'n tír,
A easbuiġ gach níḋ de 'n t-soirt sin.
"A Ċeataiġ, a stoir, glac meisneaċ go mor,
'S ná cluintear níos mó d' ar n-eugcaoin,
Bí carṫanaċ, cóir, d'a raċfaiḋ a ród,
Ná dearmad fosda ḃeiṫ déirceaċ.
Dá m-biḋeaḋ againn bólaċt, airgiod, 's ór,
Nar ċuma air an t-saoġal ca n-geuḃam,
Aċt air ṁalaiġ Gleann-doiṁin beiḋ mé seasda níos mó,
'S gaċ Nodlaic beiḋ 'sa ḃaile air feusda.
Translation.
My time now is past, and I must leave at last,
That dear home where no trouble came nigh me,
There's no more joy for me, and I fear ne’er shall be,
Strange scenes all too sorely do try me.
When I think of my state, I feel shy, desolate,
'Mongst the people — there's none to relieve me, —
My heart can’t consent that I'd long feel content
On the Braes of Glendoon, believe me.
In exile 'mongst strangers all meet death and danger,
And hundreds it often leaves mourning,
It has made my hair gray, caused my strength to de¬
[cay,
None can stand its hard trials oft-returning.
To all who'd agree to take counsel from me
I'd say, “Be not far from your own folk,
For if in sickness you be, or in hardship, believe me,
You need not rely much on unknown folk."
On a saint's simple fare, all my life, free from care,
In my home I'd live happy and easy,
Smooth grasses there grow, and berries also,
The tall reed, the heather and daisy.
There the moor-grass grows tall, — joy and mirth
sound thro' all
The wild glens where the small birds sing sweetly,
l’ve ne’er felt the same since hither I came,
Wanting all these things completely.
“O Kitty, my dear, now be of good cheer,
Let no more hence be heard of our fretting,
Be friendly and gay to all going the way,
To give alms to the poor ne’er forgetting.
If we had kine young and old, and silver and gold,
We'd care not where on earth we might wander;"
Now on Glendoon Brae we henceforth must stay,
But each Yule-tide I'Il feast at home yonder.
NOTES — 1. This song expresses the grief of a young
bride on leaving her father's for her husband's home.
In lines 1 to 7 of last verse the husband tries to con¬
sole her.
2. Glendoon (Gleann doimhin, the deep glen), is
a valley among the Donegal Highlands, about ten
miles west of Letterkenny.
3. The Irish form of these two lines is frequently
quoted by old people here when they hear of accid¬
ents or deaths occurring among friends or acquaint¬
ances in America or other foreign countries.
Anthony J. Doherty.
Some of our Irish-American contemporaries have
said that they would publish Gaelic departments
in their journals if their subscribers had expressed
a desire for it. Ah, gentlemen, did they ever ex¬
press a desire to have your papers published at all ?
Ordinarily you claim to lead public opinion, Why
seek to follow it in this instance ? The fact that only
one Irish-American family out of four patronize the
so-called Irish-American press whereas all Germans
patronize theirs, should be a sufficient demonstra¬
tion that there is something rotten in Denmark.
Gentlemen of the Irish-American press, while
you act on the theory that any considerable portion
of your countrymen have abandoned the idea that
they are still a sovereign though oppressed Nation
you cannot command their support; that, gentle¬
men, they have made clearly known to you by let¬
ting your papers severely alone ! The Irish are not
different from other sovereign peoples. Treat them
as the German and Skandinavian editors treat
their peoples and you will have like results. But
persist in your efforts to denationalize them (tho'
unconsciously, of course) and you shall continue to
bemoan the paucity of your supporters.
Bourke's Lessons are not now to be had. As noted
in the Gael, they are to be re-published by a New
York publisber this Fall and as soon as they are
ready we shall announce the fact. From the tone
of some of the communications which we receive
the writers must think that we are interested in the
publication of these and other Gaelic books. We
are not. Our only interest in any Gaelic publica¬
tion is the propagation of Gaelic literature, and we
shall always tell the public where such may be had
as far as we may know. When Irishmen identify
themselves with the Gaelic mevement through mer¬
cenary motives only, God help the language and
its cause. — The Gael would not have lived for the
last nine years were its motive personal gain.
