46
AN GAODHAL.
Nursing for another
Cubs she fain would smother
So I feel to-day.
Sadness breathes around me,
Sorrow's chains have bound me,
They who should have crowned
[me
Perish far away!"
Could I think you waver?
No ! those words I gave her —
“O, thou fair enslaver,
Thou hast won my heart.
Speak on, I entreat thee,
I may never meet thee,
Never more may greet thee,
Speak, before we part!"
So she then related,
How our land was hated,
Cashel devastated,
And its chieftains slain
“But," she said, “we are striving
Hosts are now arriving
Who will soon be driving
Tyrants o'er the main!
O! thou who inspirest
Eire’s bards, and firest
Heroes' breasts in direst
Woe through bitter years,
Unto thee each morning,
Who didst dree such scorning,
Scoffing, scourging, thorning,
I cry out with tears !
Send him back, and quickly
Who now, sad and sickly,
Roams where sorrows thickly
Press and crush him down!
And disperse and scatter
All who in these latter
Times have striven to shatter
Eire's rightful Crown!
O! the French and Spanish
Soon our foes will banish,
Then at once will vanish
All our grief and dread,
City, town, and village
Shall no more know pillage,
Music, feasting, tillage,
Shall abound instead;
Poetry, romances,
Races, and "long dances,”
Shouts, and songs, and glances
From eyes bright with smiles !
Our King's feasts shall Fame hymn
Though I may not name him,
Victory will proclaim him
Monarch of the Isles.
Many excellent friends of the Gaelic cause
have suggested that we ought to send bills to sub¬
scribers, the same as is done in other business,
when subscriptions become due. We shall do so
in future, though it costs time and money. How¬
ever, all subscriptions are due in advance.
The Democratic candidate for governor of Mass.
was eletected the other day by a large majority;
but the candidate for lieutenant governor, who is
an Irish-American, was defeated out of sight —
What a lot of white-livered bigots
Subscribers who think the Gael worth gett¬
ing should notify us of their change of residence.
AIR MAIDIN CHEODHACH.
"Air maidin cheodhach 'nuair a éirighim
Agus ghabhaim amach faoi 'n t-uaigneas
Is rúd a bhuail an saighead mé
Nach leigheasfadh an Róimh;
Is fada dham dhá sheunadh
Agus caithfead feasda innsin,
Gur grádh mná óige mhill mé
'S gan mo leigheas le fághail."
"A ógánaigh óig, má 's féidir
Gur fírinighe deir do bheul liom,
Ní leigfead-sa féin faoi 'n g-cré thú
Má 's féidir thú a leigheas;
Acht go bh-fuil mo cháirde air gach taobh
[dam
Air láimh mo leas a dheanadh,
'S go m-bainfidhdís cundas geur díom
Gad é 'n taobh air go rachfainn."
"Innis-se dóibh, a spéirbhean,
Go rachfaidh tú lá a spaisdeoireacht,
Mar go bh-fuil tú curtha, ceusta
Ó bheith a' t' aonar do luidhe;
Beidhead-sa ann súd am' aonar
Aig lúb na coille geur-ghlais,
'S go deibhin má n-gnidheann tú breug
[liom
Is daor ort mo chúis."
"Is iomdha geallamhain bhreugach,
A thugais ariabh ó do bheul dham,
Fad a's bheidheadh grian air aer
No 'n feur glas aig fás;
'S go d-treamhfadh caoirighe maola
Na cnoic agus na sléibhte
Mo mhalruid de chéile
Nach b-pósfa mé go bráth."
"Innis-se dam, a chailín,
Gad é 'n fádh nach ngabhfa liom-sa,
Buachaill eudtrom, súgach,
Mear, lughmhar go leor;
Do thiurfadh puins 's lionn duit
Agus rionc air thallaibh cúirte,
Agus air n-dóigh b' fheárr é na'n cnútach
Nach m-beidheadh air an t-ádh."
Tá teampuilín air thaobh cnoic
Agus tuaimín ro-dheas deunta ann,
Air leigeann mo cheithre geugaibh
Bheith sianta ann súd síos;
'S a mhaighirín mhilis mhaorga
Mar d-tigidh tú seal de m' fheuchaint,
— air. Petrie's A.I.M.
No. 1513
Joyce A.I.M. p 12.
craobhaigh
— féach Cláirseach na nGaedhal.
an dara cuid.
