Philo-Celtic
Celebration
Of the 16th Anniversary of the birth of Ireland's
National Poet,
TOM MOORE,
At Jefferson Hall, Thursday Evening, May 28th.
PROGRAMME,
1, Opening Chorus, "O'Donnell Aboo. By the
Society
2. Introductory Remarks, By President Gilgannon
3. The Address of the Evening, Judge Rooney.
4. Solo, (Irish) "The Coulin,"
Mrs Deely,
5. Recitation, Fontenoy,
Mr. John Byrne.
6. Solo, "Eire a Ruin," Miss Nora T. Costello.
7. Recitation, "The Celtic Tongue,“ (Original
and the composition of one of the lady members
of the Society),
Mr. B. Martin.
8. Solo, "Kathleen Ma Vourneen," Miss Donnelly
9. Solo, "Oh, Breathe Not His Name,"
Mr. M J. Hyland.
10. Recitation,
Miss N. Crowley.
11. Solo, "Juniata,"
Miss Gettins.
12. Solo, "The Meeting of the Waters,"
Mr. M. F Costello.
DANCING.
The Society gives gratuitous instruction in the
Irish Language every Thursday and Sunday even¬
ing from half past 7 till half past 9 o'clock.
THE CELTIC TONGUE.
By Rina,
This is the poem alluded to above as composed
by one of the lady members (Miss Moran) of the
Society.]
Dedicat to Brian Boru and the P. C. Society.
(Acrostic)
The Celtic Tongue ! our Mother-tongue ! should
we not love it well ?
How sweet in by-gone happy years as its soft
and ringing spell;
Entwined with fondest memories — how dear no
wo can tell —
Cherished were the rescued remnants of our glo¬
rious historic past. —
Endearing words of tenderness were all we were
left at last —
Living echoes of the dear old tongue then dis¬
appearing fast, —
Till earnest men with patriot hearts that glowed
with kindred fires,
Impelled by a sacred impulse would revive the
language of our sires!
Considering it our fairest heritage which proudest
hope inspires
'Tis the language St. Patrick spoke, in which he
prayed and taught:
Oh! who can tell its pleading power, when on an¬
gels' wings 'tis brought
Near to the radiant throne of God with Green
Erin's prayers full fraught —
Gushing from fervent Celtic hearts, warm, faith¬
ful to the core ;
Unchanged is its vibrant music, as when in the
sainted days of yore,
Erin's grand old watchord was —
"Dia agus Muire agus Éire mo stór."
"RINA"
May, 1885.
LORD BYRON TO TOM MOORE.
My boat is on the shore,
And my bark is on sea ;
But before I go, Tom Moore,
Here is a double health to thee.
Here's a sigh to those who love me,
And a smile to those who hate,
And whatever sky's above me,
Here's a heart for every fate !
Though the ocean roar around me,
It still shall bear me on;
Though a desert should surround me,
It hath springs that may be won.
Were't the last drop in the well,
As I gasp upon the brink,
Ere my fitting spirits fell,
'Tis to thee that I would drink.
In that water, as this wine,
The libation I would pour
Should be — Peace to thine and mine,
And a health to thee, Tom Moore!
Repeat 1st verse for chorus.
Let all remember that the Philo-Cel¬
tic Picnic will be held at Shutzen
Park, on Thursday, September 3rd.
