AN GAODHAL.
113
Se teanga 'n caint ta naomhta;
Beir air go teann,
Beir air go deo,
Leann e trid sgrios agus pianta,
'S beidh se arís mar bhí se mhfad-ó,
Ann aimsir suarc na bh-Fiannta.
Eoghan J. Ua Carruil,
Chicago.
Trimhadh la fichid de'n mi Iuli, 1891.
My Dear Mr. Logan,
I embody some of my sentiments, regarding
the duty of our people in preserving their native lan¬
guage, in the little poem I have written for your
paper. This is the crude English translation. —
The Counsel of a Friend of Erin.
1
Oh people of Ireland, as the years will come freight¬
ed with
Wisdom, remember your history, and the heroic
deeds of the
Fianii, and the glory of the hundreds that were of
old in Erin.
2
Oh people of Ireland, the years will come filled with
wisdom,
But what will our history be? An alien or a Gaelic
one ?
Of a lost race, or of a living nation? Oh I pray Je¬
sus
My country-men, be ye valiant men, Oh people of
Ireland.
3
The years will come, teeming with wisdom, but pre¬
serve your
Language, Oh race of the Fianii, keep thy customs,
save thy history
That is refulgent as the stars in bosom of the firma¬
ment. Oh
Pulse of my left breast, thou people of Ireland, grasp
upon
Thy language, thine own bright white bright tongue.
4
Oh peoples of Ireland the years will come rejoicing
with
Wisdom, but grasp thou thy language, that is
bright, pure -
Bright. It is the language of song. It is the lang¬
uage of music,
It is the tongue of the language that is holy, grasp
it boldly,
Grasp it for aye ! Follow it through destruction and
pain,
And it will be again, as it was long ago, in the thrice -
Happy times of the Fianii.
JOHN J. CARROLL,
Chicago.
The mail brought us a pamphlet from his Hon¬
or, the Mayor (his defense of the Water Works at
fair), a few weeks ago, addressed “The Gall.” We
beg to assure his Honor that we have had no
"gall" for him unless his calling us out of our
name may now generate it. His Honor is not a
subscriber.
32 Avondale Avenue, Phibsborough,
B'l'atha Cliath, 16, Beulteine, '91.
[By some mistake this note had been overlook¬
ed last month; however, some of the poems men¬
tioned in it have appeared.]
A Shaoi Ionmhuin,
Cuirim chugat 'san litir seo dhá sein¬
néid & trí dánta a sgríobh mé féin, ní'l
mé cinnte gur fiú an dadamh iad; acht
is féidir é go d-tiúbhraidh siad lámh con¬
ganta do chúis ar d-teangan, & fonn éig¬
in do léightheóiribh do pháipéir; tá ceann
aca sgríobhthá air an easaonta dólásach
seo atá 'n ar 'measg, agus ceann aca
air an rádh seo "Buailidh síos an Sac¬
sanach," óir measaim go bh-fuilmíd uile
'san tír seo air tí bheith 'n ar Sacsan¬
achaibh, támaoid ag cailleamhain gach nídh
a chuireas difir eadrainne & na Sacs¬
anachaibh, tá teanga, ceol, nósa ag dul
uainn, agus tá teanga, ceol, nósa agus
"politics" an Sacsanaigh ag teacht 'n a
n-áitibh, seal atá mórán d'Éireannachaibh
ag labhairt go h-árd do thaobh a d-tír-
ghrádha. Tá dhá dhán sgríobhtha air an n¬
grádh; agus aon sheinnéid sgríobhtha air
mo mhac, do rugadh dham ceithre míosa ó
shoin.
Is dóthchas liom go m-béidh siad fiú
áit ad' pháipeur luachmhar.
Fanaim do chara fíorbhuan,
Riobard MacSeorraigh Gordon.
SEINNÉID.
Cia h-í an bhean óg úd is deise gnaoi,
Is milse beul 'ná mil, is binne gúth
'Ná 'n t-eun a sheinneas suairc le h-
ais an t-sruth',
D'a bh-fuil an folt air ghuailnibh bána 'g
lúidhe?
Seo í a chuireas suaimhneas sáimh a m'
chroidhe
A n-áit mór-imris; gidh nach bh-fuil mé
fiú!
Is mé an fear sólásach, grinn an-diú,
A's iarrann sibh-se uile orm; cia h-í?
Mar fhear gan chéill atáim ag siubhal,
gach trá
