AN GAODHAL.
943
and of historical events, — died on the Wednesday
before the first day of November, the fifty-sixth
year of his age, on the sixth day of the moon.
May the mercy of the Saviour Jesus Christ come
upon his soul.”
It is not improbable that the subsequent conti¬
nuation of Tighernach may have been carried on
by some member of the same fraternity.
(To be continued.)
AN TEANGA GHAEDHILGE A gCATH
Chluain Tairbh.
Is í seo an teanga do labhair Brian
Boróimhe,
Air mhagh Chluain Tairbh a lár a shlóighte;
D'árdoghaid sé cros Chríost 'nna chlé-
láimh fhóghanta,
Agus dubhairt, "geabhfaid bás a g-cás
cho glórmhar."
Do labhair arís go bríoghmhar cneasta,
In sa teanga bhínn do bhí faoi cheannas;
A chlaidheamh in a dheas-láimh go hárd do
tharrang,
"Ní bhéidh mo righeacht go bráth faoi tháir
aig Danair."
D'fhreagar na tréin a nGaedhilge bhlas¬
da,
"Orainn ní'l baoghal faoi do réim 's
ceannas;
Feuch fir Eoghain mhóir go buan 'nna
seasamh,
Aig forai ar an am a namhadh do threas¬
gairt.
A n-deog-laoi chuaidh iar m-buaidh an cha¬
tha,
Air a ghluainnibh uaisle gan buairt no
fearg ;
Is duit-si an buidheachas go léir a Athair,
Ó tá mo thír-si saor chugad féin beir
mo anam."
Do thóg Dia air a fhocal go h-obann an
rígh,
Go Flathas na ngrás go h-árd 'nna righ¬
eacht,
Ameasg na n-Aingeal, na n-Apstol, na
Naoimh,
A g-caradas Mhuire agus a g-cumann¬
cha Chríost.
A Righ na bh-feart an t anam ní mhaoidh¬
im ort,
Do cheannuightheis led bhás in 'sa Pháis
Dia-haoine;
Gidh gur thógais Morogh a bh-fochair a
shínnsior;
Bhí an t-athair 's an mac re chéile sínte,
D'fhág Éire go bráth le grádh d'a g cuimh¬
ne.
Amhlaoibh Ó Suilleabháin.
The following lines are written in answer to
those persons who inquired where I was born and
if my name is Sullivan galla and if I could trans¬
late and compose in English, —
A dhaoine uaisle glánta ní gan ádhbhar
do labhraim;
Na bídheach rómham aon eagla ní h-ainm
dom galla,
Do chuireadar ar fán mé ó aitreabh mo
chine,
A m-Barún-Dhún-Chiarain air bhruach Inbh¬
er Sceine.
Amhlaoibh O'Súilleabháin.
Translation —
O noble gentle people not without cause I speak;
Have no fear or dread no foreign name for me,
They drove me out a wanderer from Dunkerron
by the sea.
The habitation of my race, on the brink of Inver
Sceine.
Humphrey Sullivan.
Behold the Irish Nationalist on the
rostrum in Cooper Union, N. Y., add¬
ressing a surging crowd of his fel¬
low countrymen begging a dollar aid
for "Parnell and the Irish cause," and
at the same time wearing a 'fifty' dol¬
lar suit of English goods! [a side,
gentlemen, don't be exposing your
gommishness to an intelligent com¬
munity]
In all seriousness we ask those lead¬
ers of the Labor League, who are also
Irish Nationalists, why do they order
a strike against employers who trans¬
gress their rules and not order a simi¬
lar strike against England, to produce
a like result? We await an answer
to this interrogatory and characterize
as a fraud the Irish Nationalist who
ignores it.
