278
AN GAODHAL.
I love your gold tresses,
That gracefully twine,
In soft silken ringlets,
So glossy and fine.
I love your small footprints,
So light on the lee
But dearer I'll love you
When mine you will be.
"TO THE MEMORY OF
JOHN McAHALE.
ARCHBISHOP OF TUAM,
PRIEST, PATRIOT, AND POET.
FOREMOST LOWER OF HIS COUNTRY AND
HER LANGUAGE,
THIS MEMORIAL TO THE NAME OF
ST. PATRICK
IS RELIGIOUSLY DEDICATED."
Such are the terms in which the Rev. John No¬
lan O.D.C. Hon. Sec. Gaelic Union of Dublin, an¬
nounces his St. Patrick's Prayer Book a copy of
which now lies before us. This prayer-book is
Irish-English — Irish on one side and the transla¬
tion in English on the other; it is bound in green
and gold. The type is clear and bold, and, taking
it all together, is a very neat little volume. No
Irishman or woman should be without a copy of it.
We prophesy far it a large circulation. The price
of it is one shilling and six pence Sterling, and
may be sold in this country for about sixty cents.
We are making arrangements by which every Dol¬
lar subscriber to the Gael, will be presented with
a complimentary copy of this prayer book.
AONDACHT NA GAEDHILGE,
Leis an g-Craoibhín Aoibhinn.
'Sí Aondacht na Gaedhilghe a tuilleas an
ghlóir,
D'Aondacht na Gaedhilge go rabh onóir,
Do shaorthuigh go láidir, a's d' oibrigh go
mór
Chum an leabhairín bheag seo do chuir ós
ar g-cómhair.
Le congbháil beo
Na teangan is sine,
Tá an leabhairín so
Anois air bhun:
Tá grádh, tá dúil,
Tá dóchus linn-ne,
Ná leig air g-cúl
An grádh 's an fonn.
Bhí an Ghaedhilig leath-chráidhte 'gus múch¬
ta faoi cheo,
Dob' ionan a's marbh í, caillte, leath-bheo
Ach fáilte, 's fáiltch, 'gus fáilte go deo
Roimh na daoinibh a sheas ins an m-beár¬
na mar seo.
Le coimeud beo
An ghlóir is bhinne,
Cuireadh i g-cló,
Ár leabhairín:
A's mar is cóir,
Cuimhneochaidh sinn-ne
Go bráth an glór
Mór, milis, mín.
Ná bhidheadh aon sgoilt, no aon imreas
le faghail,
A ghortóchadh ar g-cúis no a mhillfeadh ar
g-cáil
Ach Foighid 'gus Carthanacht chroidhe mar
fhál;
Is féidir leo duinne no cúideacht shábháil.
A's coinnigh fós
Ó ghearmad grána,
Plúirín a's rós
Na d-teangan breágh:
Mhá támuid féin
Go díleas, dána,
Ní thiocfaidh leun
Uirri no crádh
THE GAELIC UNION.
By “Craoibhin Aoibhin."
Translation by Michael Cavanagh.
Air — “Garryowen."
'Tis the Gaelic Union that merits our praise,
To the Gaelic Union be Honor's bright lays ;—
By Wisdom's and Labor's united essays,
This bright little Journal before us it lays —
To keep alive
Earth's oldest tongue,
This book will strive,
With purpose true;
For our delight
To life it sprung,
Long may its sight,
Our joy renew.
The Gaelic language half crushed seemed dying,
Through gloomy mists fast to oblivion 'twas hissing
But welcome, trice over, to those, who defying,
Grim fate "man the gap and the "old flag" keep flying
To keep alive
Our language bland,
And make it thrive,
This book appears,
And if we aid,
With heart and hand,
'Twill never fade
Through future years.
