312
AN GAODHAL.
VII
Ach thóig sé suas a sáile,
Cuipiugh' dhi go laidir,
'S dairin 's ni nach n-gach dhi,
Na b'fhéidir fós ariamh;
Tuilte catha treunmhair,
Sáile breunach geurmhair,
Sailte bánta 's feuraibh,
'S fríoch glas air shliabh.
VII
'S duine dall gan leurgas,
No amadán, da n-déarfainn,
Nac g-coróch' an oidhché sin
A chroidhe 'stigh na chliabh,
No nach smuaineoch' air an lá
A g-críonfadh air fad an Nádúr,
Crich a leig air gach Náisiún,
'S an breitheamhnas a triall.
VIII
An ghrian cailleadh a soillse,
An ghealach fuilteach, millteach,
An spéir i caitheadh a reulta
Na mílte ceuda 'nuas —
Crainn 's luibhe téurnodh,
'S caraigeacha a pleusgadh,
Na h-éisg air fad aig euga,
'San mhuir a tirmiugh' suas.
IX
Iomadh sligán cnámha,
Ceanna, cosa, lámha,
An mhuir an mhéid a batha
Ainti féin a riamh —
Ní'l duine anuas ó Ádhamh,
Leanaibh, fearaibh, mnaibh,
Nach n-éireóchaidh suas an la sin
Le triall air an sliabh.
X
Leis na briathra rádh,
Eireochaidh suas san trath
An mhéid shíolruigh ó Ádhamh
In a g-colonacha arís —
Is maiseach, aluin, glonmhar,
Aoibhinn seunmhar, fonnmhar,
Ceolbhuinn, sonaigh an fholacht
Thig an siúd le Críosd.
XI
Ní'l cailigheacht chiuin da séamha,
Da bh-fuil aig na fíoraonaibh,
Nach bh-fuil mar an ceudna
Bun os cionn arnodh
Aig a méid a ghluais a níos
Le diabhal na tnúth 's críos,
Dithmheas, saint 's drúis,
Fearg, leisg 's gleogh.
XII
Siúd e la na méala,
Mallacht, osna, 's beice.
Aig sluadh na laimhe clethe
Air radharc na bh-fíoraon,
'S go mb'fhearr leo fanacht choidhche,
Míle bliadhain do shaoghalta,
Na théacht air ais faoi dhídean
A g-colonacha féin.
XIII
Siúd e la na spórta,
Ceol-bhinn, aoibhinn, ghlórmhar,
Failte, na mílte póga
Ó anama na bh-fhíréin
Da g-colonacha ceannsa,
D' iompuir iad go manla,
'S d'arduigh iad mar chlann Dé,
Na mílte suas ó'n ngréin.
XIV
Insiúd a bheidheas na suidheamh
Na h-easbuil agus na Naoimh,
Le fuil an Uain a nigheamh
A ngleann seo na n-deor;
Is leo seo déarfas Críosd,
"Tairidh air ais airís
Mar righthibh air an ríoghacht
Ta agam fa n-ar g-comhair."
[ To be continued. ]
How the English "Nobility" Are Created.
Most readers of English history are acquainted
with the character of the notorious courtesan.
NELL GWYNN.
She was a clever woman. One day King — paid
her a visit, as usual, and her littleson hav¬
ing made some noise she said, "Keep quiet you
little bastard." The King chid her for calling the
child such a name. "My liege, said she "what
name can I call him ; the poor child has no other.
The king then and there conferred a title on him,
and his descendants wear the ducal coronet to-day.
A British peerage was offered to the O'Connor
Don some time ago but he would not accept it, we
presume he did not want to be in company with
such "nobility" as the above.
Ex-Head Centre, James Stephens, has exonera¬
ted Mr. P.J. Meehan of the Irish-American, from
the accusation of intentionally losing the papers
which led to the memorable seizure of the Irish
people newspaper and staff in Dublin in '65.
