Patrick O'Brien.

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Goleen."

McCarthy brave, that shining light, like a warrior of

old.
Who fought the foe with blade and ball spoke fearlessly

and bold.
He's a credit to his country, a patriot brave is he,
And willingly would give his life to set old Ireland free.



118 BIRTH AND ADOPTION.

His record is well known and prized in Skibbereen;
He spoke like Charles Stewart Parnell that Sunday at
Goleen.



Bold Rahilly, with youthful face, spoke manfully that

day,
He told them to unite and hold the foe at bay.
Toohig, also, spoke his mind, and that defiantly
And willingly would fall in line to strike for liberty.
In McCormack's house we refuge found — his wife the

village queen —
She treated us right royally that Sunday at Goleen.

The meeting then being over, to Crook Haven we did

go,
Across the bay, that August day, indeed we were not

slow;
With Raycroft and McCarthy taking turns at the

wheel,
We ploughed right through the waters upon an even

keel.
Miss Lynch was on the quarterdeck, as graceful as a

queen.
As we landed on that shingled strand after we left

Goleen.

Then, when we reached McCarthy's house, his charm-
ing family
Cead mi-le failtha gave to us, adjacent to the sea;



BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 119

We sat around his festive board and toasted him in

wine,
Surrounded by him family, as we all fell in line.
With prose and song Crook Haven rang, the like I

ne'er have seen.
That Sunday I drove o'er the hills to speak at old

Goleen.



And when we steered our bark for home, with forty in

the boat,
Three cheers we gave for Motherland, despite the

coastguard's float.
As fine a crowd of Irishmen as I would wish to see,
Each ready then to strike a blow for Irish liberty.
The ladies were the bravest that ever I have seen.
Who went with me through pouring rain that Sunday

to Goleen.



Now fare you well, McCarthy, Raycroft and old Joan,
I hope when next we meet again this land will be our

own.
May every robber landlord from Cork to Donegal,
Get little rent throughout the land, and may more

tyrants fall ;
May God deny them shelter in our own Isle of Green,
Long life to you, both one and all, good people of

Goleen !



120 BIRTH AND ADOPTION.

A YEAR SINCE THEN.

One year has passed and gone since I was left alone,
My fondest love, my cherished hope, to heaven from

me has flown.
I miss her gentle footsteps, her voice so sweet and

mild,
With heavy heart I think of her as tender as a child.
Her picture hangs upon the wall, her music still is

there.
The keys she loved so well to touch, also the vacant

chair.

How fondly I recall to mind those happy days gone by,
I knew no care nor sorrow then, each hour I did enjoy ;
My only thought was of my love, my joy, my heart's

delight,
The sweetest soul that ever lived, an angel pure and

bright.
Her spirit sweet doth hover o'er our once happy home.
Where she as fair as e'er she was in dreams to me doth

come.

The cloud that now hangs o'er me I'll suffer for her

sake.
Though gloomy hours I've spent, since God from me

did take
The dearest one that ever lived, a mother and a wife,
Who was a treasure in herself before she gave her life
To the "Father of the Fathers" to keep her in his care.
Fully resigned to His good will, I never will despair.



BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 121

UNITY.

Oh, Motherland! pray cast aside your bigotry and
pride ;

Sure we were born on your soil and should stand side
by side.

Some may go to chapel and some the other way;

What matter when before one God we all kneel down
to pray?

We know but one true God who watches o'er us all ;

Then why not we united be and make the tyrants fall ?

Then grasp the Orange by the hand and let us all unite

And soon we'll have our own again despite all Eng-
land's might.



If we are once united, no power could us subdue,
Nor slave our conscience mar for to Ireland we'd be
true;

The Green and Gold we will unfold, united we will

stand.
To strike for home and liberty in dear old Ireland.
Let all go where they think is best and worship there

their God,

And then we'll strike for liberty on our own native
sod.

We know no sect, we know no king, but bow to God
on high.

To stand by Ireland and her cause, prepared to do or
die.



122 BIRTH AND ADOPTION.

Let Ulster shake the brawny hand of Leinster o'er the
Boyne,

And Mayo shake with rebel Cork, all provinces en-
twine.

We know no south, we know no north, to Ireland we'll
be true,

No matter where we go to pray, for you, dear land, for
you.

Then brothers grasp each other's hands from the Shan-
non to the Boyne,

And let your toast be unity, and freedom yet will shine.

Let pope and parson go their way, with them we have
no fight,

But strike for Ireland's holy cause, and that with all
your might.



THE SISTER OF MERCY.

She gave up friends and parents dear, the dance and

banquet hall.
And now you'll find her w^th the sick, where duty doth

her call ;
She soothes them with her gentle voice, relieves them

of the pain.
She asks no pay for night or day, for she is all humane.
She never shirks from pestilence or plague of any kind.
But loves to help the feeble ones, she is so sweet and

mild.



BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 123

She goes through all the battlefields, no danger does

she fear.
And to the dying soldiers she whispers words of cheer.



She brings relief to sick and dying, though her own life

is at stake,
And goes through all the pest-houses, God's angels in

the wake.
When a plague is epidemic, she's always in the van.
And for the stricken victims she does the best she can.
The wounded she takes care of and soothes their

aching pain.
And when they're dying in the field, with them she

does remain.
Amid the thickest of the fight, when the cannon loud

doth roar,
You'll find the Sister at her post, though shot and shell

may pour.

She never thinks of death while she is at her post,
She knows no sect, she knows no fear, you'd never hear

her boast.
She's gentle and kind-hearted, treats rich and poor the

same,
She lives within the convent walls and Mercy is her

name.
The orphans and the wayward ones, of them she will

take care,
Her trust is in her God above for him to do and dare.



124 BIRTH AND ADOPTION.

She goes among the wounded and the dead upon the

field,
Her own Hfe she would sacrifice before that she would

yield.

No more she's in the ballroom, the theater or street,
In the sickroom or the hospital each day you will her

meet.
Her dress is of the plainest, her cross and beads also,
The emblem of her faith protects, no matter where she

go-
The rich and poor respect her, they're glad to have her

call,
When e'er there's sickness in their homes she visits one

and all.
When her hard day's work is over she spends long time

in prayer.
For with the Mercy Sister no lady can compare.

She gives up all earthly pleasure of bright and happy
days,

God's angels watching o'er her while she serves him
always.

She never dwells on pleasant hours spent in her child-
hood home.

But goes wherever God doth call when his command
doth come.

The Bible is her novel, the convent is her music hall.

The medicine her wine cup where duty does her call.

To dress the wounds of many with manner sweet and
kind.

None like this noble woman in this world you will find.



BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 125

ON BOARD THE "MAJESTIC "

(September 3, 1901.)

O'er foam-capped waves our gallant bark darts on be-
fore the wind,

And bears us from our motherland that we must leave
behind;

The Stars and Stripes are looming up and liberty is
there,

There is no nation on this earth with America can
compare.

CHORUS.

Sailing home, sailing home, across the deep blue sea,

Sailing to Columbia, the land of libert}' ;
Sailing home, sailing home, across the deep blue sea.

Sailing to Columbia, the land of liberty.

Distinguished men there are on board whom I have

met before.
Dr. Rushton, Captain Kelly and Hanley of Glenore ;
Meyers famed of Toronto, a worthy man I trow.
With illustrious young Nelson and Dr. Moore also.

Soon we'll see Nantucket and Montauk Point you

know,
Sandy Hook and Bay Ridge, with Liberty aglow ;
That gift of gallant Frenchmen, known both far and

wide.
From here to St. Helena, where their greatest hero

died.



136 BIRTH AND ADOPTION.

You may boast about old Europe and antique scenes

galore,
Jerusalem and Palestine, Euphrates and Glandore ;
But give to me the Stars and Stripes, none with them

can compare,
Columbians noble emblem, the fairest of the fair.



CAPTURE OF LORD METHUEN IN SOUTH

AFRICA.

Oh ! Johnnie, dear, and did you hear the news through-
out the land?

Delary captured Lord Methuen away down on the Rand.

His baggage, mules and oxen all went on the stampede,

Paul Kruger should feel proud of such a noble deed.

He fought them from the dawn of day until the sun
went down,

And captured all his aides-de-camp and minions of the
Crown.

McBride I'm sure must have been there along with
gallant Blake,

The plans were laid by Irishmen the English ranks to
break.

Oh ! Johnnie, dear, keep silent, don't let the Irish know.
For they would like to see us whipped from here to
Aherlow.



BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 127

Those Irish Connaught rangers have caused King Ned
to fret.

Afraid they would desert him and fight with brave
De Wet.

The Dublin Fusiliers and Inniskillen corps

No more will fight in Africa against the gallant Boer.

Miss Gonne has stopped enlisting from Cork to Belfast
town,

No more recruits King Ned can get to guard his blood-
stained Crown.



Oh ! Johnnie, dear, what must we do to end this cruel

war?
I'd go down to South Africa if it were not so far.
They say McBride and Blake are there, and that keeps

me at home,
Around my own fireside at night from there I will not

roam.
Some scattered children of the Gael are fighting side

by side.
Along with brave DeLarey, De Wet and John McBride.
I wish that Cecil Rhodes, Joe Chamberlain and Co.,
Doc. Jameson and Salisbury stealing did not go.



For they have ruined our commerce and credit far and

wide,
At home in dear old England and o'er the swelling tide.



128 BIRTH AND ADOPTION.

Our army now is in disgrace, Britannia rules no more,
That flag that braved a thousand years defeat has met

galore.
Those Clan-na-Gaels and Graunawales have sworn to

pull down
The Union Jack v^here'er they can in spite of King or

Crown.
They think the Boer's cause like their own, that both of

them are right,
I wish that we gave them Home Rule to try and keep

them quiet.



I wish that Salisbury had sense to promise them Home

Rule,
And then when peace it was proclaimed those traitors

he could fool.
Just like the promise written on Limerick's treaty

stone.
You know we stole their lands from them and claimed

them as our own.
Some people say that God is just and watches o'er us

all.
And that's the reason I'm afraid our empire will soon

fall.
You know we robbed the Irish for seven hundred

years.
And now our cause is lost to us, we have no volunteers.*



BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 129

A SHAMROCK FROM IRELAND.

There's a little plant that grows throughout old Erin's

Isle,
'Tis the emblem of our Fatherland and dear to the

exile.
The dearest plant in all this earth, to Irishmen a prize.
'Twas planted by vSt. Patrick, the Druids to civilize.
McCarthy sent it o'er the sea to fair Columbia's shore,
That pretty little sprig of green, the Shamrock from

Dromore.

He sent it in a latter and sealed it with his hand.
In memory of St. Patrick from dear old Ireland.
To me it is far dearer than the thistle or the rose,
For only in old Ireland that little emblem grows.
When I beheld its precious leaves I kissed it o'er and

o'er,
That pretty little sprig of green, the Shamrock from

Dromore.

Oh, how I love that little plant no tongue but mine can

tell.
The emblem of my native land, the shamrock of the

dell.
I wore it on St. Patrick's Day in my brand new

caubeen.
In the city of Los Angeles, in spite of king or queen.
Although it came six thousand miles, I cherish it the

more;
That pretty little sprig of green, the Shamrock from

Dromore.



130 . BIRTH AND ADOPTION.

Crook Haven grows that little plant, and also Skib-

bereen,
True men are there to do and dare from Bandon to

Goleen ;
McCarthy and Tim Sheehy, Raycroft and Jack Shea,
Are patiently awaiting and ready for the fray,
And would defend that priceless gem 'gainst any Saxon

corps —
That pretty little sprig of green, the Shamrock from

Dromore.

That sacred little emblem from me will never part.

In memory of St. Patrick's Day I'll wear it next my

heart.
Its three leaves will remind me of Faith and Father-
land,
And why St. Patrick planted it despite a pagan band
He planted it 'mong Irishmen where heathens were

galore.
That pretty little sprig of green, the Shamrock from
Dromore.

The daughters of old Erin that emblem too doth love,
They wear it on St. Patrick's Day, and red with green

above
In their silken, wavy hair, entwined with it is seen.
In memory of their patron saint and Erin, their loved

green.
They love their native country, and all of them adore
That pretty little sprig of green, the Shamrock from

Dromore.



BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 131

A VISIT TO THE OLD FOLKS' GRAVE.

There is one spot in Ireland that's ever dear to me,
Most sacred of all other scenes that overlook the sea.
It is not far from Galley Head, known both far and

wide.
Where you can hear the ocean roar at the ebbing of

the tide.
The green grass was thick and tall when I knelt there

to pray,
Which makes it dearer far to me in foreign lands away.
To see that spot since boyhood it was my daily crave,
At last God granted me that wish — to see m}^ parents'

grave.



One died while I was young in years on the broad At-
lantic foam,
Returning to his sick bedside in my dear native home.
My mother's spirit, too, has fled to that celestial shore
Where all will meet some future day where sorrow is

no more.
In Ardfield Graveyard both their bodies lie.
And often in the silent night my thoughts there to doth

fly- ■

The green grass and the shamrock above their bones
doth wave.

That place is always dear to me, my parents' Irish
grave.



132 BIRTH AND ADOPTION.

Three sisters, too, were buried there when they were

young in years,
And kneeHng o'er their resting place could not allay

my tears.
As I knelt there to pray for them and kith and kin

around,
I thought of how old Ireland by alien chains was

bound;
1 saw the ancient castles once held by Irish chiefs,
Who fought and bled defending them and struggling

for her griefs.
The robbers came and plundered and did us all enslave.
Not far from where I planted flowers above my

parents' grave.



WHY I'M SAD.



In a city by the seaside, 'mid the happy and the gay,

'Midst the peals of joy and laughter, I would fain be
far away ;

What's the matter? Once our comrade of happy by-
gone days.

You seem downcast, yes, and sullen, you were with us
. once always.

You oft joined us in the evening in the ballroom and
the hall.

Tell us truly what's the matter, you don't seem your-
. self at all.

Can it be there is a woman — as is often — in the case,

A smile that tells of sadness is now upon your face.



BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 133

Why do you talk of sadness? Perhaps you do not

know
What it is to lose a dear one who an angel was also ;
Wlien you stroll along the valley with no one by your

side,
You will think of days you spent with her, your loved

one and your pride ;
Who shared with you your troubles and tried to make

them small.
Never flinching night or morning when duty did her

call.
Yes, there was a woman, through the struggle and the

strife.
Whom I loved next to God above, for twenty years my

wife.

'Tis true I may seem sad to you and in your sports not

join,
But my thoughts were of the loved one, whose love

was always mine ;
And though she's numbered with the dead, her mem'ry

still is dear,
Methinks I hear a gentle voice now ringing in my ear.
Then how could I light-hearted be or mingle in the

throng.
When I think of her, my sweet one, and of her sweetest

song?
So never ask me if there was a woman in the case.
Yes, there was a precious treasure, and none may take

her place.



134 BIRTH AND ADOPTION.

MY FIRST VISIT TO GOUGANE BARRA.

We started for Gougane a goodly Sunday party,
Kelleher and Creeds and also Miss McCarty.
We left that ancient town adjacent to the bay,
To visit valleyed Desmond that pleasant summer's day.
That day will be remembered, a jolly crowd was there,
The ladies were of Irish birth with faces fresh and fair.
We drove through Main and New streets, too,
And up the hills toward Newton flew.



We journeyed on with lightning speed,
By woodland dell, by field and mead.
By crags and peaks and meadows too.
Lending enchantment to the view.
Burke Roach and wife in stately mien.
With O'Sullivan Beare, our village queen.
The ladies acted well their part.
As our cart careered due west by north.



Old Kealkill, picturesque and grand.
With Newton's cove and pearly strand ;
Baulin peaks and hills so high.
Just like the sunbeams passing by.
Then through the pass we gently glide.
With mountain peaks on every side.
You'd think you saw the Rockies there,.
Or Shasta's peaks high in the air.



BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 135

Such scenes as these are seldom seen
By tourists anywhere I ween,
The Sunday I drove through the glen,
With ladies fair and gentlemen ;
You'd think you saw Lord Bantry there,
With all his staff I do declare.
O'SuUivan Beare looked like a queen,
The fairest on the village green.



Miss Lyons and sister, charrriing, too,
Sang the old songs as well as new;
Their brother, too, did sweetly sing,
While O'Connor made the valley ring
With his elocution and warlike cry
When he recited famed Fontenoy.
O'Brien, who lately crossed the sea,
Encored and cheered him earnestly.



Farewell Gougane Barra, known both far and near,

I'd rather visit you than any English shire.

Your hills and vales and fields so green.

Cannot be equalled in the sheen ;

Your stalwart sons and maids so fair

Bring credit to you everywhere.

I wish that I could once more see

The purling streams that feed the Lee.



136 BIRTH AND ADOPTION.

AN APPEAL TO IRELAND.

(Victoria and Her Son Ned.)

(3h, Ireland ! Will you welcome him to your hos-
pitable shore ?

He comes now with the oHve branch, as he has done
before ;

He knew our kith and kin were robbed of homes, of
lands and all,

His mother gave us bayonets, buckshot and cannon
ball.

Just think of all our people from Tyrone to Skibbereen,

Buried without coffins, though subjects of the Queen;

Dying for the want of food she took from them away,

While famine raged throughout the land from Down
to Bantry Bay.

Her deeds are well recorded 'way down on the Rand,
As well as in .old Ireland with torch and blood-stained

hand;
Think of the Manchester martyrs, her voice could set

them free.
Their crime was love of country in fight for liberty.
Tim Cadogan, a farmer's son, the King said he should

die,
For the killing of a nasty Bird, upon the gallows

high ;
When the gallant sons of Carbery called out for Tim's

reprieve,
Ned said ''The Packer" wanted blood, and Tim's life

was made brief.



BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 137

Just think of all the cabins that were leveled in her
reign,

And the sons and daughters of our race forced to cross
the main;

Remember forty-seven and sixty-seven, too.

How Mitchel and brave Rossa were treated for being
true.

They had to leave old Ireland, that fair land of the fair.

That Britain plundered, ravaged, with Ned prospective
heir;

Now he succeeds his mother, by whom his plans were
laid.

Oh, Erin ! Will you welcome him with his blood-
stained brigade ?



If you do you'll shame the memory of the men of

forty-eight,
Who fought and bled for Ireland till forced to

emigrate ;
Just think of Captain Mackey, how he kept the foe at

bay,
And noble Eddie Duffy, whose life blood ebbed away
Within the walls and prison bars away from home so

dear,
With none to press his cold white hand and none to

give him cheer;
In a foul and filthy English jail they tortured him to

death,
Victoria was the reigning Queen who took away his

breath.



138 BIRTH AND ADOPTION.

Oh, Erin ! Are your sons so base to welcome to your

shore
The rake who swore your Church was wrong now and

for evermore;
The despoiler of once happy homes that he helped to

pull down?
He ordered out his hirelings, the minions of the Crown,
To get rack rents for absentees to Spitalfields to go,
To spend in vile debauchery, as many of you know.
Now he throws out the bait to the sons of Garryowen,
But Ned, agra, you are too late, your tricks are too well

known.



You hanged a farmer's gallant son the first week of

your reign.
So Ned, avick, take my advice and with your wife re-
main ;
The Irish girls are virtuous, that you know full well,
You found that out when there before as history will

tell.
Take lessons from the past, you know you were not

slow.
Except when Ireland was at stake that country well

does know ;
In vile debauch you spent your cash, for Ireland none

to spare ;
And think you'll fool them once again by starting with

the fair.



BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 139

The Irish are a generous race, but for you they have no

use,
You helped to rob and plunder them and heaped on

them abuse ;
You sowed the seeds of discord throughout old Erin's

Isle,
When you took your anti-papist oath, the vilest of the

vile;
Perhaps you thought you'd find the Celts v^ould look

to you for hope.
Because you went to Italy to interview the Pope.



THE IRISH VOLUNTEER'S FAREWELL TO

HIS MOTHER.

"Oh, mother, dear, can it be true what I have heard
to-day ?

Is Kitchener burning women down in South Africa?

And starving mothers carrying babes, no clothes to
keep them warm?

No food to eat, no place to sleep, for he has seized the
farm?"

"Alas, alas, 'tis true, my child, all nations seem afraid,

While England plies the lighted torch with her blood-
stained brigade."

"I wish I were a man, mamma. I may do something
yet,

I then would go to Africa and fight with brave De
Wet."



140 BIRTH AND ADOPTION.

''Ma gra machree, ma'bouchil oge, though sad I now

rejoice
To think that I have reared a son with such a manly

voice.
A sorrowing woman I have been since your brave father

died,
But if he were aHve to-day you'd be his joy and pride.
He was murdered in old Ireland by minions of the

Crown,
Defending our once happy home till Peelers pulled it

down.
Those cowardly dogs they murdered him, for they

were ten to one;
And a pike he carried, boy, from Swilly to the Bann."

"Oh, mother, come and tell me, and sit down by my

side;
That maybe in South Africa I'd join with John

McBride.
If you get me a Mauser I'll smite the tyrant low ;
You know that soon I'll be sixteen, I'm not too young

to go.
You say papa was murdered by soldiers of the Queen,
When fighting in old Ireland did he wear a suit of

green ?
If I get close to Kitchener — that Irish renegade —
I'll put a bullet in his brain, my plans will be well laid.

"I'll go before the captain and grasp him by the hand ;
He'll send me to DeLarey, on the veldt or on the Rand.



BIRTH AND ADOPTION. 141

I can swim the great Tugela, I can ride across the

plain,
I can bivouac with Botha through all his fierce

campaign.
Now, mother, give your blessing, for I vow to God on

high,
I'll go to fight with Botha, prepared to do or die ;
I'll avenge the death of papa, no danger do I fear.
But I want a mother's blessing before I volunteer."



She took her darling by the hand and stroked his flaxen

hair,
And pressed him closer to her heart, saying: "Now, go,

do and dare;
You have your mother's blessing, may God's be with

you, too,
And when you fight with brave De Wet, to motherland

be true ;
And when you see that blood-stained flag of England's

King and Queen,
Strike home and well for Innisfail, our native isle so

green ;
Remember all the miseries by English tyrants made;
God bless you now, my only son, of death be not

afraid."



"Farewell, mamma, I'll think of you at morning, noon

and night,
Till^ I return to you again, your joy and heart's delight.



142 BIRTH AND ADOPTION.

A cowardly son you never reared, that now I promise

you,
I'll face the foe through shot and shell, like father I'll

be true;
And should I perish in the fray, think of the son who


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Online LibraryPatrick O'BrienBirth and adaption; → online text (page 7 of 13)