AN GAOḊAL.
197
Without appeal your scrip and stave
You take for your inheritance,
And cringe before the hadless chance
Such weapons for deliverance gave.
You, too, within Creation's plan
Were made to take a hero's share,
Why not desert the sluggard's lair,
And herd and camp with workers tan?
Shake off your rags: stand out to view
In native majesty of man
So bring your master; let us scan
The difference betwixt you two.
As fair a frame, as firmly knit,
As large a dome for generous thought,
As nobly born, as dearly bought,
For manful action just as fit!
For him to wipe his shoes upon
What set you sprawling in the dust?
"'Twas Fate, you answer, if you must,
"It put this scarecrow raiment on."
You lie; 'twas envy of the power
Your brothers in their freedom knew,
'Tis treason to your birthright, too,
That gives you rags and whine for dower.
You saw with rage your brother' gain;
He was too free; there lay your grudge;
You called the stranger in to judge,
How has he dealt between you twain ?
He put his hand into your dish,
Betrayed ! Ay, you must take the Cross,
He counts his shekels; you your loss;
Now, traitor, you have had your wish!
His savage fathers herded swine
Long centuries, hindward while your own
Had camp and college, arts and throne,
Hedged round with awe and reverence fine.
Our war-flag kissed the Alpine breeze,
Before they knew what standards meant;
Our ship sails, far and wide, had sprent
Their shadows on a hundred seas!
Full many a year, by mere and floss,
We knew by heart, exempt from flaw,
Redemption's plan, God's saving law,
Before they learned to sign the Cross!
And while, with us, like Aaron's rod,
Religion bloomed to greener life,
They, irreligion, took to wife,
And broke the treaty signed with God!
Nay; doubt it not, the kith and kin
Of those for whom we starve and moil,
To woo to rich results our soil,
Came here, as slaves, to sons of Fionn!
Ah, greatness of the long ago!
How fierce it haunts us while we sweep
With realing swhirls from doep to deep,
To settle in the deepest woe.
The foremost once : the hindmost now;
Our mandood wrecked on foreign shores,
While we are sick with leper's sores,
And brand of Cain upon our brow!
Our freedom banned, our flagstaff furled,
Our ancient valor sick or gone;
The noblest race the sun shines on,
Bound hand and foot before the world!
Men talk of progress; do we climb
Proportioned to our olden height?
With powers of darkness leagued in fight
Is victory ours on fields of time
No, brothers; bare and grim and stern,
The barren years give answer back;
Though centuries long upon the rack,
We miss the crown for which we yearn.
To-day no place in all the earth,
Where we can stand and say to all:
"This soil is ours, whate'er befall;
We're Pariahs in our land of birth!
Oh, for the days before were flung
Foul thraldom's fetters o'er our limbs,
And every life sent forth its hymns,
Unsullied by an alien tongue !
Oh, eager voice ! you plead in vain ;
The past can give us now no more
Than echoes from its shining shore,
And memories from its storied plain.
And here we have instead of these
The sunken check, the hollow eye,
The scoff and jeer of passers by,
And rags that catch the howling breeze.
What have we done that such a curse
Should strike so hard on such a soul
That we but find the pauper's dole,
And daily shelve from bad to worse.
Disunion there the upas-tree
That slays all life within its reach,
That makes a death-in-life for each ;
Our isle the graveyard that we see.
An Mionnán agus an Mactíre.
Mionḟoclóir.
adḃáil, acknowledge; amadán, a male
fool; áṫas, gladness; beaṫa, life, suste¬
nance; bealaċ, way or course: caiṫfiḋ
must; ċonnairc, saw (verb); cúṁaċt,
power; daṁsóċaḋ, will dance; deiṁin
certain; éadáil, treasure; fánaḋ, stray¬
ing; feaḋ, during; fíol-ċú, a wolfdog;
imirt, playing; iomċar, carry ; iompuiġ
turn; iongnaṁ, wonder; luaḋ, quick;
mactíre, a wolfdog; míreaċ, merry;
