AN GAODHAL.
521
GUTH na n-ÉIRIONNACH CHUM NAOMH.
ACHDA an TREAS LEÓ DEUG.
(Translated from the English of GAEL GLAS)
Ó! tabhair air ais ar n-dúthchas sean,
A Chomharba ionmhuin an Mhic Dé;
Is leat air neamh do nasg' go teann —
Is leat an bhrigh do sgaoil' air g-cre.
Casann an Niobe ghlas a b-pían,
Le slabhraibh Pheadair nasgth' id-tráill',
Fliuchtha le domblas geurleanmhain', —
Is leat a h-íc amháin le fághail.
O Ioshua, faistineach Dé,
Do fuaradh ceangal tres an chleas :
Acht brisde so, cúig aoise re,
Feuch mar thriall gort amuigh go fras.
Is mar so mheall Hanraoi, an rígh,
Pápa neamhamhrasach le cluain;
Ó rúd, ar d-tír aig fulaing dith,
'Nois in Léo chuireas a muiníghin.
Socraigheas Samuel in Sean Reachd
Riaghachd in Dáibhidh agus Saul;
'Gus chonnairc Iehú prions' an eachd,
In ola naomh gur grás le fághail.
A Athair Naomh éist le n-ar mian,
'S tabhair d' ar n-oileán cóir rioghdha;
'S nuair ríthfeas soighnein chogaid dhian,
Nach d-troidfidh 'n Tigh'rna 'nar n-aghaidh
'Nuair ól fir Ghédheon as an sreimh,
Do'n slógh níos lúgha do lean an bhuaídh ;
'S ó Hóreb Cnoc rug Maoise séimh,
An t-slat do scuairs' an tíorán cruaidh.
Gidh támuid lag, is maith ar mian,
Chum Rómha dhóirt'mar tias fola;
'Gus tre chathughadh, fada as dian,
Chongbhuigh'mar ar g-cinn os an tuile.
Chóimhéadaighe na fíneamhaine Dé
'N ár n-ioleán glas, ba ársa cliú,
Gidh cúramach' chum chreidimh ghlé,
Do léig a fhala do túisliughadh —
Gur fhada fhál Gaedhilge ar g-cre,
Ní'l amhrus anois, no rún,
Gan do chobhair tá caillte sí,
,S béidh iomad damnughadh aig leanamhain
Sgaoil din ar g-ceithre aingil niamh',
In amhain mhór Longdúin, faoi chuing;
Chum coigeadhadh sheasadar 'riamh —
Mhúch na bullaidh ar saoirse binn.
Is bhéidhid réidh 'nuair thig an iubhal,
Do bhual' Míchréidmhighe agus Saoibh;
Comhlíónfaid din, súil' fáidheamhal',
'S líonfaid an domhan le solus naomh.
An lá 24adh Deich-mhí, 1885. Mh. Ua C.
TO CRAOIBHÍN AOIBHINN,
Whose patriotic labors for the cause
of Ireland and her language prove him to be as
true a hater of bigotry as he is a lover of his coun¬
try and his people.
CRAOIBHÍN AOIBHINN.
Cá bh-fuil, a ngort na tola, 'measg na
n-duille,
Rud nimheamhail cho h-olc le driseog an
Fhuath'?
A dhriseoig a tá olc go mall 's go luath,
O! go minic tá tú dearg le sruthaibh fola!
Is baoghalach — níos baoghalaighe, 'measg na
coille,
Bheith 'timchioll do dhealg ngarbh as cruaidh,
Ioná bheith teitheadh ó 'n námhaid bh-feall,
gan truaigh,
No ag reubadh air chairrgeachaibh an tuile
A Chraoibhín Aoibhinn áird air chrann
Tír-ghradh',
Os cionn na n-driseog a's na luibh 'tá
faoi,
Is áluinn tá do dhuilleabhar a's do bláth,
Blasda le fuaím na n-eun 's na m-beach
a chaoidh' !
Is maith, is maith tá an bláth 's an ceol
[sin — acht
Níos feárr béidh an toradh tíreamail
'tá ag teacht
Translation —
Where grows there, in the garden of thought,
A thing so deadly as the bramble Hate?
O evil plant, 'tis early, oft, and late
Thy thorns and leaves with guiltless blood are
fraught.
'Tis dangerous — more dangerous than aught
That else may be — to pass where thou dost wait :
More dreadful thou, than foe infuriate,
In victory, or wreck in breakers caught.
But, joyous Branchlet on the Tree of Love —
True Country — Love and Love of Countrymen —
How beautiful thy blossoms smile above!
How sweet thy bird-songs rising through the
glen !
Sweet is thy bloom, swest is thy music — yet
Swseter the fruit thy land from thee will get.
L. M Baldwin.
