AN GAODHAL.
11
ÓG-LAOCH NA RANN.
Fonn — Móirín.
Do thriall chum catha óg-laoch na rann,
Lár námhad Éireann ársaighe,
Lann athar fáisgthe air go teann,
Ann aoinfheacht le n-a chláirsigh.
"A thír na n-dán!" ar an laoch-cheoil grinn,
"Dá mbeidheadh an saoghal do d' dhaoradh.
Tá aon chruit amháin le do mholadh go binn,
'S aon lann amháin le do shaoradh"
Do thuit an bárd! ach má thuit, go fóill
Bhí a chroidhe neamh-eaglach, treunmhar;
A's raob sé teuda cláirsighe an cheoil,
Do scuab sé, an tráth bhí seunmhar;
A's dubhairt, "Ní mhillfidh cuing do ghuth,
A chruit chaoin na bh-feath saora;
Is ní cluinféar go h-eug do lán bhinn-sruth,
Lár brúide a's bróin na tíre."
THE MINSTREL BOY.
AIR — "Moreen."
The Minstrel Boy to the war is gone;
In the ranks of death you'll find him ;
His father's sword he has girded on,
And his wild harp slung behind him :
"Land of Song!" said the warrior bard,
“Though all the world betrays thee,
One sword, at least, thy rights shall guard,
One faithful harp shall praise thee!"
The Minstrel fell! — but the foeman's chain
Could not bring his proud soul under;
The harp he lov'd never spoke again.
For he tore its chords asunder ;
And said, "No chains shall sully thee,
Thou soul of love and bravery!
Thy songs were made for the pure and free,
They shall never sound in slavery!"
AN CHRUIT DO SCAP TRÍ THALLAIGH 'N RIGH.
Fonn — Máire a Stóir.
An chruit do scap trí thallaigh 'n righ
Na gaethe ceola binn',
Tá 'r bhallaidh Theamhra 'nois 'n a luidhe
Gan fearsad ceoil, no rinn;
