AN GAODHAL.
479
do chinn,
Is éistfhead le ceoltaibh do chláirsigh atá
binn.
Gan eagla go stróicfidh an Sasanać
teann,
Aon teud as do chruit, no aon dlaoigh
as do cheann.
Translation.
Tho' the last glimpse of Erin with sorrow I see,
Yet wherever thou art shall seem Erin to me,
In exile thy bosom shall still be my home,
Ann the eyes make my climate wherever we roam
To the gloom of some desert or cold rocky shore,
Where the eye of the stranger can haunt us no more
I’ll fly with my Coulin and think the rough wind,
Less rude than the foes we leave frowning behind.
I'll gaze on the gold hair, as graceful it wreathes,
And hang o'er the soft arm, as wildly it breathes.
Nor dread that the cold-hearted Saxon will tear,
Ono chord from that harp, or one lock from that
hair.
(This air is considered the finest melody in song. )
Next came Mr. John Byrne, who recited "Fonte¬
noy with all the grace, vehemence and effect
which a sympathetic mind could impart.
Professor McEvoy then discoursed choice Irish
National airs on the bagpipes, (a bran new set said
to have cost $900) He, as the saying is, nearly
raised the roof off the building with his enchant¬
ing strains, and, at times, when the jig or reel was
tipt, made the old folks jump in their seats.
The next was a trio, in Irish,
Oh, Breathe Not His Name !
excellenty rendered by the Misses M. C. Cline
and Nelly F. Donald, and Master Joseph O'
Neill, of the New York P. C. S. Our New York
friends deserve the highest praise for their excel¬
lent training of these children. However, this is
not to be wondered at when we call to mind that
the Hon. Denis Burns is a guiding spirit in that
Society.
The next on the programme was Erin's Flag,
which Mr. O'Shea delivered with his usual brill¬
iancy. The next was a solo, "I Dream't I Dwelt in
Marble Halls," in the execution of which Miss
Walsh exhibited splendid vocal training.
"The Minstrel Boy was next rendered by Mr.
Robert Emmet Brown, a young gentleman highly
cultivated in the musical art.
Mr. Bernard Martin, entering fully into the spi¬
rit of his theme, spoke, amidst rounds of applause
"The Language of Our Race. —
Though many ills have cursed the land since free¬
dom's sun has set,
The spirit of a brighter ago still lingers with her
(yet
Some relics of the past remain, and Irishmen can
trace
A monument of freedom in the language of our race
Through centuries of blood and strife that monu¬
ment has stood,
And rears to-day its head obove the rolling ages
(flood —
The language of our mother-land in glorious days
gone by —
Would we disgrace the Irish name and basely let it
(die ?
Oh. no! we'll strive — we'll struggle hard to raise it
up anew,
The language of the Saint and Saga, the noble and
(the true.
Between the future and the past a grand connect¬
ing chain —
It witnessed us a Nation once — 'twill find us so
(again.
O, yes. we'll speak the dear old tongue of fluency
and grace —
The Gaelic tongue, old Erin's tongue, the language
(of our race —
We'll ask our brothers all to join (for we must not
forget,
Where'er they be they're "Ireland's still," ) — the
(spirit's in them yet.
IT IS NOT DEAD! IT IS NOT DEAD! It burns within
them still!
That fiery Celtic spirit that no tyranny could kill.
They'll join! they'll join! they'll raise it up. A¬
nother glorious day
Awaits the ancient mother tongue. They'll save
(it from decay.
Oh, I think I hear it ringing, — as in the past it
rung, —
Throughout the isle, the music of the grand old
(Celtic tongue.
'Tis our nation marching onward to take our
rightful place,
All Irishmen shall speak again the language of our
(race.
The next on the programme was a baritone solo.
"Our Jack's Come Home To-day," excellently
rendered by Mr. Ed. J. Carr. The concert part
of the programme was brought to a close with se¬
lections on the bagpipes by Professor McEvoy, af¬
ter which dancing commenced and continued till
a late hour, when all went home, fully satisfied
that this had been the most successful reunion
the Society has had yet.
Some time ago Mr. Ed. Brady of Wash¬
ington, Ind. recommended the is¬
sung of a stirring address to arouse
the latent spirit of Irishmen in support
of the Irish Language Movement. If
the foregoing proceeding by patriotic
Irishmen and women, the stirring ad¬
dress by President Gilgannon and the
pathetic lines of "The Language of
our Race" are not sufficiently exciting
to arouse the spirit of nationality in I¬
rishmen, we are forced to the conclusion
that they are not mentally competent
to realize and appreciate either nation¬
al or individual independence, and, as
Gael Glas hints in another page of
this issue, that their "destiny is, to
serve others." This is a humiliating
position for people whose ancestry
illumined the darkened recesses of
Continental Europe, and who, at the
present time, claim ordinary intelli¬
gence. The Irishman who makes no
