AN GAODHAL.
741
THE SECOND BOOK. (continued)
Rule XIII.
The interection a, the sign of the
vocative case, always causes aspiration
both in singular and plural of nouns
and singular number of adjectives.
Exercise XXX.
a bhean, O woman. a chladhaire, O cow¬
ard, a dhaoine, O people. a dhearbhra¬
thair, O brother. a Dia mhóir, O Great
God. a dhuine dhona, O unfortunate
man. a fhir, O man. a ghrádh, O love.
a mhná, O women. a Mháire dhílis, O
dear Mary. a pháisde bhig, O little child
a shean-fhir shona, O fortunate old man.
a Thighearna, O Lord.
Exercise XXXI
Cléibh, of a bosom. cliabh, a bosom.
cóir, just, gil (voc.), bright. uaisle,
noble (plu. of uasal).
1 A ghrádh ghil mo chroidhe. 2 A chara
dhílis. 3 A dhearbhráthair mo chléibh. 4.
A duine chóir. 5 A chuisle mo chroidhe.
6 A fhir mhaith. 7 A phean-fhir dhílis. 8.
A mhná sona. 9 A bhean uasail mhaith.
10 A dhaoine uaisle.
1 O bright love of my heart. 2 O
dear friend. 3 O brother of my bosom
4 Honest man. 5 O pulse of my heart
6 Good man. 7 O dear old man. O
fortunate woman. 9 Good lady. 10
Gentlemen.
The foregoing Rules contain all the instances in
which there can be any grammatical necessity for
aspiration, and the learner has now mastered in
these thirteen Rules the most difficult part of the
Irish language. (All the Rules referred to above
are given in previous issues of THE GAEL.)
SEINN, A CHAOIN CHRUIT.
Seinn, a chaoin Chruit, seinn dom choidhch',
Abhrán na laetheadh a bhí
A n-glór a thóigfeas suas an croidhe
Ó'n aisling a bh-fuil sé faoi ;—
Dán thráchdas air chloth, 'nois gan réim,
Shoilsigh orrainn solus séin;
Air uaislibh bhródach, 'nois faoi bhéim,
'Gus dóthchuis tá choidhche faon, —
Seinn, a Chruit bhrónaigh, seinn dom fhéin:
Ó tá ar n-dán aon mar aoin,
Caillte, ach do mheabhair, araon,
Maireamuid ach i n-imchéin.
Nach dúbhach gaoth meadhon na h-oidhch',
'G osnaighil 'measg do theudadh,
Tóruigheacht macall' ann, go baodh,
De ghlór tá fadh'ó eugthadh ;—
Taoiseach, 'nois as meabhair, a bhí
A d-tosach in sin a n-glóir;
Bárd, ce measadh síoruighe 'san t-slíghe,
'Nna g-codladh 'nois gan onóír. —
Is baodh, a Chruit chaoi, gaoth mhea'n oidhch'
Thríd do theudaibh 'gosnaighil choidhch';
Is baodh a tóir air mhacall; ann,
Na n-glór 'd'imthigh fad'ó uainn.
Dá bh-feudthá na spioraid do ghlaodh',
Ce i sgáth 'sa h-alla bhíodh,
'Na suidheadh 'g éisteacht led' cheol síghe,
Tá 'nois balamh 's aig críonúgh' choidhch',
Ní seadh ; dhúiseoch' siad ach ag caoin'
Sglábhuigheacht a g-clannadh féin;
An sin a bh-fágáil ann a suain',
Tá na marbh saorthadh, amháin ! —
Thist, thist, a Chruit chaoi, an guth amhradh,
Creidillbháis lae na saoirse.
No 'g éisteacht le na h-eug-osnadh,
Lig dom bheith a m-bás sínte,
SING, SWEET HARP.
SING, sweet Harp, oh sing to me
Some song of ancient days,
Whose sounds, in this sad memory
Long buried dreams shall raise ;—
Some lay that tells of vanish'd fame.
Whose light once round us shone,
Of noble pride, now turn'd to shame,
And hopes forever gone. —
Sing, sad Harp, thus sing to me;
Alike our doom is cast,
Both lost to all but memory,
We live but in the past
How mournfully the midnight air
Among thy chords doth sigh.
As if it sought some echo there
Of voices long gone by. —
Of chieftains, now forgot, who seem'd
The foremost then in fame.
Of Bards who, once immortal deem'd,
Now sleep without a name. —
In vain, sad Harp, the midnight air
Among thy chords doth sigh,
In vain it seeks an echo there
Of voices long gone by.
Couldst thou but call those spirits round,
Who once, in bower and hall,
Sat listening to thy magic sound,
Now mute and mould'ring all.
But, no, they would but wake to weep
Their children's slavery.
Then leave them in their dreamless sleep,
The dead, at least, are free ! —
Hush, hush, sad Harp, that dreary tone,
That knell of Freedom's day;
Or, listening to its death-like moan
Let me, too, die away.
