478
AN GAODHAL
'S air threun Chlainn Ui Chonaill, Ui
Dhomhnaill Abú.
Sé 'n fíor-cheart tá Clann Chonaill cos¬
aint cho toilteach,
Na teallaighe 's na h-altóir tá ansa
d' ar g-croidhe;
Tá lorg an námhaid 'nn a bhán fhásach
fuilteach;
Le lasair a d-teinte ta soilseach
meadhon oidhche;
Suas le gach laoch mar sin,
'N g-cian ghleo bhí agaibh roinn —
A Chlann Chonaill dhílis, all-nearthmhar
faoi bhruth:
Airigheann an Sacsan feall,
Trom-bhuillidhe Clann na nGaodhal —
Buail fá bhur nglas-thír Ui Dhomhnaill Abú!
Translation.
Proudly the note of the trumpet is
sounding,
Loudly the war-cries arise on the
gale,
Fleetly the steed by Lough Swilly is
bounding
To join the thick squadron in Sham¬
air's green vale;
On every mountaineer;
Strangers to flight and fear;
Rush to the standard of dauntless
Red Hugh!
Bonnought and Galloglass,
Throng from each mountain-pass !
On for old Erin — O'Donnell aboo!
Princely O'Neill to our aid is advancing
With many a chieftain and warrior
clan;
A thousand proud steeds in his van¬
guard are prancing
’Neath the borderers brave from the
banks of the Bann:
Many a heart shall quail
Under his coat of mail;
Deeply the merciless foeman shall
rue,
When on his ear shall ring,
Borne on the breez's wing,
Tir Conaill's dread war-cry — O'Don¬
nell aboo!
Wildly o'er Desmond the war-wolf is
howling,
Fearlass the eagle sweeps over the
plain,
The fox in the streets of the city is
prowling —
All, all who would scare them are
banished or slain!
Grasp, every stalwarth hand,
Hackbut and battle brand —
Pay them all back the deep debt so
long due.
Norris and Clifford well
Clan of Tir Connell tell —
Onward to glory — O'Donnell aboo!
Sacred the cause that Clan-Conaill's
defending —
The altars we kneel at and homes
of our sires;
Ruthless the ruin the foe is extending —
Midnight is red with the plunder¬
er's fires !
On with O'Donnell then,
Fight the old fight again,
Sons of Tir-Conaill all valiant and
true !
Make the false Saxon feel
Erin's avenging steel !
Strike for your country, O'Donnell aboo!
Mrs. Deely followed and entranced the audience
by her inimitable rendering of the far-famed
CÚILÍN.
Gidh seo m'amharc déighionach air Éirinn
a choidhche,
Geabhfad Éire in gach tír i m-béidh cuis¬
le mo croidhe;
Béidh d' ucht mar theach dhídin, a chéile mo
chlaon,
A's do róisg mar reult-eolais a ngeur-
bhruid i g-cian.
Go cluan uaigneach fásaigh no cuan coimh¬
thigheach gorg,
Ann nach féidir le 'r námhaid ar g-cois¬
céim do lorg,
Éalóchad le mo Chúilín, 's ní aireochaidh
mé an síon
Cho geur leis an námhaid, tá d'ar n-díbh¬
irt as díon.
Dearcfhad air ór-fholt tuigh, fáinneach
