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HUMOUR



GRAVi; ]




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THE LIBRARY

OF

THE UNIVERSITY
OF CALIFORNIA



Post &vo. cloth limp, 2s. 6d. per volume.

THE MAYFAIR LIBRARY.

A JOURNEY ROUND MY ROOM. By XAVIER DE MAISTRE. Trans-

lated by HENRY ATTWELL.

LATTER-DAY LYRICS. Edited by W. DAVENPORT ADAMS.
QUIPS AND QUIDDITIES. Selected by W. DAVENPORT ADAMS.
THE AGONY COLUMN OF 'THE TIMES,' from 1800 to 1870.

Edited, with an Introduction, by ALICE CLAY.

BALZAC'S 'COMEDIE HUMAINE' and its Author. With Transla-
tions by H. H. WALKER.
MELANCHOLY ANATOMIZED : a Popular Abridgment of 'Burton's

Anatomy of Melancholv.'

GASTRONOMY AS A FINE ART. By BRILLAT-SAVARIN.
THE SPEECHES OF CHARLES DICKENS.
LITERARY FRIVOLITIES, FANCIES, FOLLIES, AND FROLICS.

By W. T. DOBSON.
POETICAL INGENUITIES AND ECCENTRICITIES. Selected

and Edited by W. T. DOBSON.
THE CUPBOARD PAPERS. By FIN-BEC.
ORIGINAL PLAYS by W. S. GILBERT. FIRST SERIES. Containing :

The Wicked World Pygmalion and Galatea Charity The Princess

The Palace of Truth Trial by Jury.
ORIGINAL PLAYS by W. S. GILBERT. SECOND SERIES. Containing:

Broken Hearts Engaged Sweethearts Gretchen Dan'l Druce

Tom Cobb-H.M.S. Pinafore- -The Sorcerer The Pirates of Penzance.
SONGS OF IRISH WIT AND HUMOUR. Selected and Edited by

A. PERCEVAL GRAVES.

ANIMALS AND THEIR MASTERS. By Sir ARTHUR HELPS.
SOCIAL PRESSURE. By Sir ARTHUR HELPS.
CURIOSITIES OF CRITICISM. By HENRY J. JENNINGS.
THE AUTOCRAT OF THE BREAKFAST-TABLE. By OLIVER

WENDELL HOLMES. Illustrated by J. GORDON THOMSON.
PENCIL AND PALETTE. By ROBERT KEMPT.
LITTLE ESSAYS ; Sketches and Characters, by CHARLES LAMB.

Selected from his Letters by PERCY FITZGERALD.
CLERICAL ANECDOTES. By JACOB LARWOOD.
FORENSIC ANECDOTES ; or, Humour and Curiosities of the Law and

Men of Law. By JACOB LARWOOD.
THEATRICAL ANECDOTES. By JACOB LARWOOD.
CAROLS OF COCKAYNE. By HENRY S. LEIGH.
JEUX D'ESPRIT. Edited by HENRY S. LEIGH.

TRUE HISTORY OF JOSHUA DAVIDSON. By E. LYNN LINTON.
WITCH STORIES. By E. LYNN LINTON.
OURSELVES : Essays on Women. By E. LYNN LINTON.
PASTIMES AND PLAYERS. By ROBERT MACGREGOR.
THE NEW PAUL AND VIRGINIA. By W. H. MALLOCK.
THE NEW REPUBLIC. By W. H. MALLOCK.
THOREAU : His Life and Aims. By H. A. PAGE.
MUSES OF MAYFAIR. Edited by H. CHOLMONDELEY-PENNELL.
PUCK ON PEGASUS. By H. CHOLMONDELEY-PENNELL. Illustrated.
PEGASUS RE-SADDLED. By H. CHOLMONDELEY-PENNELL. Illus-
trated by Du MAURIER.

PUNIANA. By the Hon. HUGH ROWLEY. Illustrated.
MORE PUNIANA. By the Hon. HUGH ROWLEY, Illustrated.
THE PHILOSOPHY OF HANDWRITING. By DON FELIX DE

SALAMANCA.

BY STREAM AND SEA. By WILLIAM SENIOR.
OLD STORIES RE-TOLD. By WALTER THORNBVRY.
LEAVES FROM A NATURALIST'S NOTE-BOOK. By Dr. ANDREW

WILSON.

CHAT TO &* WIND US, PICCADILLY, W.



SONGS

OF

IRISH WIT AND HUMOUR

SELECTED BY

ALFRED PERCEVAL GRAVES




CHATTO & WINDUS, PICCADILLY

1884

[All rights reserved]



LONDON I PRINTED BY

SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE
AND PARLIAMENT STREET



GIFT




PREFACE.

f~ RTSH Wit and Humour have so caught the
popular fancy, that no apology is due for the
issue, in ' The May fair Library,' of this collec-
tion of lyrics, in which the amatory, convivial, martial,
predatory, and philosophical instincts of Irishmen
have found droll or epigrammatic expression.

So complete a collection of the kind could only
have been made during the last few years, within
which time copyright in Moore's and most of Lover's
writings has expired.



And I am not only the first in the field in this
respectj^^jjjjjjpll^^urjiej: advantage of the permis-



204



PREFACE.



sion to draw upon copyright poems by Sir Samuel
Ferguson, Mr. William Allingham, Dr. J. F. Waller,
Mr. T. D. Sullivan, M.P., and Mr. T. C. Irwin,
leading living representatives of Irish poetry.

This permission I have freely availed myself of,
and now gratefully acknowledge to the above-named
authors.



THE EDITOR.



6 HAINES HILL, TAUNTON :
St. Patrick's Day, 1884.



CONTENTS.



INTROD UCTION:



ST. PATRICK'S DAY



PAGE

J. F. Waller. xiii



LOVE SONGS.

WE MAY ROAM THRO' THIS WORLD .

MILD MABEL KELLY

THE GIRL I LOVE

MARY OF TIPPERARY

LOVE AND REASON

To LADIES' EYES

KITTY OF COLERAINE.

LESBIA HATH A BEAMING EYE .

THE BOYS OF KILKENNY

SONG . . . .

YOUGHALL HARBOUR .

THE BRIGHT LITTLE GIRL



Moore


3


St. Carolan .


5


Anon. l


7


Lover


9


Sheridan


n


Moore


12


Anon.


14


Moore


16


Anon.


18


Sheridan


20


Anon.*


21


Allingham


23



1 Translated from the Celtic by J. J. Callanan.

2 Translated from the Celtic by Sir S. Ferguson.



CONTENTS.



MOLLY CAREW.

THE TIME I'VE LOST IN WOOING

PASTHEEN FINN .

SONG ....

THE ROSE OF KENMARE .

SONG ....

NANCY THE PRIDE OF THE WEST

THE LOW-BACKED CAR

DRINK TO HER

RORY O'MORE .

THE YOUNG MAY MOON .

LOVELY MARY DONNELLY

SONG ....

LONESOME LOVERS

THE NIGHT DANCE

FLY NOT YET .

I'M NOT MYSELF AT ALL .

MOLLEEN OGE

RINGS AND SEALS < .

CHARMING JUDY CALLAGHAN

RIDING DOUBLE .

LYING ....

PURTY MOLLY BRALLAGHAN

GOING TO CONFESS
LOVE AND MARRIAGE

1 Translated from the Celtic by Sir





PAGE


. Lover


25


Moore


29


. Anon. 1


31


. Sheridan


32


. A. P. Graves .


34


Sheridan .


37


. A. P. Graves.


38


. Lover


4i


Moore


44


Lover


46


Moore


49


Allingham


5 1


Sheridan


54


A. P. Graves .


55


Moore


60


. Moore


62


Lover .


64


A. P. Graves .


67


. Moore


69


Probably Front


7i


A. P. Graves .


75


Sheridan


77


$A Lady of\
' \ Quality . (


79


. A. P. Graves.


82


Sheridan


84


r S. Ferguson.





CONTENTS.







PAGE


FAN FITZGERL .


A. P. Graves.


8 5


A Kiss A L'ANTIQUE


Moore


87


THE 'WHISTLIN' THIEF*


. Lover


90


* JENNY, I'M NOT JESTING '


A. P. Graves.


93


FIXIN' THE DAY


A. P. Graves.


96


ILL OMENS


Moore


100


THERE ARE SOUNDS OF MIRTH


. Moore


102


WIDOW MACHREE


Lover .


IO4


THE WIDOW MALONE .


Lever


107


MARY OF THE CURLS


. J. F. Waller .


no


THE RAKE'S APOLOGY


. J. F. Waller.


112


THE FIRST CUCKOO IN SPRING .


. J. F. Waller.


114


LOVE IN REALITY


. J. F. Waller^


116


* WON'T YOU LEAVE us A LOCK
YOUR HAIR? ' .


F |y. F. Waller.


119


DRINKING SONGS.


THE CRUISKEEN LAWN .


. Anon.


125


THE MONKS OF THE SCREW .


. y. P. Curran.


127


DRINK OF THIS CUP


Moore


128


WHISKY


. Joseph O'Leary


130


BARRY OF MACROOM


Anon.


133


ONE BOTTLE MORE


. Anon.


136



AIR 'DON C^SAR ' . . . John O^Keefe . 138

TONY LUMPKIN'S SONG . . O. Goldsmith . 139

1 From the Celtic.



CONTENTS.



SONGS OF FEASTING AND FIGHTING.






PAGE


O'RORKE'S NOBLE FARE .


. Dean Swift .


H3


THE SPRIG OF SHILLELAH


. E. Lysaght .


147


LARRY MCHALE .


. Lever .


149


JOHNNY, I HARDLY KNEW YE


Anon.


151


THE RAKES OF MALLOW .


E. Lysaght


154


THE GATHERING OF THE MAHONYS . Maginn


I 5 6


GARRYOWEN


. Anon.


159


THE KERRY RECRUIT .


. Anon.


161


LANIGAN'S BALL .


. Anon.


164


SONGS OF SPORT AND


OCCUPATION.




'DANCE LIGHT, FOR MY HEART

LIES UNDER YOUR FEET, LOVE


, IT |y. F. Waller .


169


THE SPINNING-WHEEL SONG .


. J. F. Waller.


171


THE IRISH SPINNING-WHEEL


. A. P. Graves .


174


DARBY THE BLAST


. Lever .


178


THE BOWLD SOJER BOY .


Lover


1 80


THE LEPRECAUN, OR FAIRY SHOEO .
MAKER ^Alhngham .


183


THE Fox HUNT


. Anon. 1 .


187



BOATMAN'S HYMN

THE POTATO-DIGGER'S SONG

FATHER O'FLYNN.



Sir S. Ferguson 2 190
Thomas Irwin 192
A. P. Graves . 196-



Edited by A. P. Graves.



From the Irish.



CONTENTS.







PAGE


TOM MOODY ....


A. Cherry


198


THE COUNTY OF LIMERICK BUCK-HUNT


Anon. .


200


THE POACHER ....


C. G. Halpine


2O4


THE IRISH REAPER'S SONG


T. C. Irwin .


206


O'FARRELL THE FlDDLER


A. P. Graves.


211


WINDLASS SONG .


Allingham


215


THE MILKMAID


Allingham


217


THE KILRUDDERY HUNT.


Anon. .


22O


SONGS OF PHILOSOPHY.


COME, SEND ROUND THE WINE


Moore


227


BUMPERS, SQUIRE JONES . .


A. Daw son .


229


PADDY'S PASTORAL RHAPSODY


Lover


234


RIDING TREBLE . . .


A. P. Graves .


236


THE GLASS OF WHISKY


Anon.


2 3 8


ESCRIPTIVE SONGS.


BLARNEY CASTLE


Prout


243


THE GROVES OF BLARNEY


Milliken


246


THE BLARNEY STONE .


Prout


249


CORK is THE EDEN FOR YOU, LOVE,^

AND ME . . . J


John Wood


250


DE GROVES OF DE POOL


R. Milliken .


254



THE ATTRACTIONS OF A FASHIONABLE^ p ^ a ^ 2 ^

IRISH WATERING-PLACE . .j

BELLEWSTOWN RACES . . . Anon. . .260



CONTENTS.



SONGS IN EXTREMIS.

PAGE

THE BANTRY GIRLS' LAMENT FOR^I .

\-Anon. . 26 1;
JOHNNY . . .. .J

DRIMMIN DUBH DHEELISH , . Anon. . . 267

FATHER MOLLOY . .. . Lover. . 270

THE POOR MAN'S LABOUR'S NEVER DONE Anon. . . 273

A LAMENT FOR DONNYBROOK . T. C. Irwin . 275

THE NIGHT BEFORE LARRY WAS\ w Maher g

STRETCHED . . . ./



POLITICAL AND SATIRICAL SONGS.

THE WOMAN OF THREE Cows . J. C. Mangan 283

RIGGED OUT . . . T. D. Sullivan 287

MR. ORATOR PUFF . . . Moore . 290

AN EXCELLENT NEW SONG ON A") <-, ^

SEDITIOUS PAMPHLET . . . j L

A NEW SONG ON WOOD'S HALFPENCE Swiff. . 294

A PROSPECT . . . E. Lysaght . 299

LAST NIGHT AS I SLEPT . . Anon. . 302

LARRY O'GAFF . . . Lover . . 304

PADDY O'RAFTHER . . . Lover. . 307

THE ANATOMY OF THE OYSTER . E. Forbes . 310

ST. PATRICK WAS A GENTLEMAN . Anon. . .313



INTRODUCTION.



S7\ PATRICK'S DAY.



y^HE white and the orange, the blue and green, boys,
^J We'll blend them together in concord to-night ;
The orange most sweet amid green leaves is seen, boys,
The loveliest pansy is blue and white.
The light of the day,
As it glides away,

Paints with orange the white clouds that float in the west :
And the billows that roar
Round our own island shore
Lay their green heads to rest on the blue heaven's bosom,

Where sky and sea meet in the distance away :

As Nature thus shows us how well she can fuse 'em,

We'll blend them in love on St. Patrick's Day.



The hues of the prism, philosophers say, boys,
Are nought but the sunlight resolved into parts :

They're beauteous, no doubt ; but I think that the ray, boys,
Unbroken, more lights up and warms our hearts.



INTRODUCTION.



Each musical tone,
Struck one by one,

Makes melody sweet, it is true, on the ear
But let the hand ring
All at once every string
And, oh ! there is harmony now that is glorious,

In unison pealing to heaven away ;
For union is beauty, and strength victorious,
In hues, tones, or hearts, on St. Patrick's Day.

ill

Those hues in our bosoms be sure to unite, boys :

Let each Irish heart wear those emblems so true ;
Be fresh as the green, and be pure as the white, boys,
Be bright as the orange, sincere as blue.
I care not a jot
Be your scarf white or not,
If you love as a brother each child of the soil ;
I ask not your creed,
If you'll stand in her need
To the land of your birth in the hour of her dolours,

The foe of her foes, let them be who they may ;
Then, ' Fusion of hearts, and confusion of colours ! '
Be the Irishman's toast on St. Patrick's Day.

J. F. WALLER.



LOVE SONGS



\




WE MAY ROAM THRO' THIS
WORLD.

may roam thro' this world, like a child at

a feast,
Who but sips of a sweet and then flies to the

rest ;
And, when pleasure begins to grow dull in the east,

We may order our wings, to be off to the west ;
But if hearts that feel, and eyes that smile,

Are the dearest gifts that heaven supplies,
We never need leave our own green isle

For sensitive hearts and for sun-bright eyes.
Then remember, whenever your goblet is crown'd,
Thro this world, whether eastward or westward you

roam,

When a cup to the smile of dear woman goes round,
Oh ! remember the smile which adorns her at home.

B 2



WE MAY ROAM THRO" THIS WORLD.



In England the garden of beauty is kept

By a dragon of prudery placed within call \
But so oft this unamiable dragon has slept,

That the garden's but carelessly watched after all.
Oh ! they want the wild sweet-briery fence,

Which round the flowers of Erin dwells,
Which warns the touch while winning the sense,

Nor charms us least when it most repels.
Then remember, &c.

In France, when the heart of woman sets sail,

On the ocean of wedlock its fortune to try,
Love seldom goes far in a vessel so frail,

But just pilots her off, and then bids her good-bye ;
While the daughters of Erin keep the boy,

Ever smiling beside his faithful oar,
Through billows of woe, and beams of joy,

The same as he looked when he left the shore.

Then remember, &c

MOORE.



MILD MABEL KELLY.

WHOEVER the youth who by Heaven's decree
Has his happy right hand 'neath that bright

head of thine,
Tis certain that he
From all sorrow is free
Till the day of his death, if a life so divine
Should not raise him in bliss above mortal degree ;
Mild Mabel-ni- Kelly, bright Coolun of curls,

All stately and pure as the swan on the lake ;
Her mouth of white teeth as a palace of pearls,

And the youth of the land are lovesick for her
sake.

No strain of the sweetest e'er heard in the land
That she knows not to sing, in a voice so enchanting

That the cranes on the strand

Fall asleep where they stand.

Oh, for her blooms the rose, and the lily, ne'er wanting
To shed its mild radiance o'er bosom or hand :



MILD MABEL KELLY.



The dewy blue blossom that hangs on the spray
More blue than her eye human eye never saw :

Deceit never lurked in its beautiful ray,
Dear lady, I drink to you, Slainte go bragh !

CAROLAN.

( Trans, from the Celtic by
Sir Samuel Ferguson. )




THE GIRL I LOVE.

JHE girl I love is comely, straight, and tall ;
Down her white neck her auburn tresses fall ;
Her dress is neat, her carriage light and free :
Here's a health to that charming maid, whoe'er she be !

The rose's blush but fades beside her cheek ;

Her eyes are blue, her forehead pale and meek ;

Her lips like cherries on a summer tree :

Here's a health to the charming maid whoe'er she be !

When I go to the field no youth can lighter bound,
And I freely pay when the cheerful jug goes round ;
The barrel is full, but its heart we soon shall see :
Come, here's to that charming maid, whoe'er she be !



THE GIRL I LOVE.



Had I the wealth that props the Saxon's reign,
Or the diamond crown that decks the King of Spain,
I'd yield them all if she kindly smiled on me :
Here's a health to the maid I love, whoe'er she be !

Five pounds of gold for each lock of her hair I'd pay,
And five times five, for my love one hour each day ;
Her voice is more sweet than the thrush on its own

green tree :
Oh, dear one ! I drink a fond deep health to thee !

ANON.

(Trans, by J. J. Callanan.)





MARY OF TIPPER ARY.



sweet Tipperary,

See light-hearted Mary :
Her step, like a fairy, scarce ruffles the dew,

As she joyously springs,

And as joyously sings,
Disdaining such things as a stocking or shoe !

For she goes bare-footed,

Like Venus or Cupid :
And who'd be so stupid to put her in silk,

When the dew-drops bespangle

Her sweet foot and ankle,

As she trips o'er the lawn

At the blush of the dawn
As she trips o'er the lawn with her full pail of milk.

For the dance when arrayed,
See this bright mountain maid



io MARY OP TIPPERARY.



If her hair she would braid with young beauty's fond
lure,

O'er some clear fountain stooping,

Her dark tresses looping :
Diana herself ne'er had mirror more pure !

How lovely that toilet !

Would fashion dare soil it
With paint or with patches when nature bestows

A beauty more simple,

In mirth's artless dimple,

Heaven's light in her eye

(The soft blue of the sky)
Heaven's light in her eye, and a blush like the rose ?

LOVER.




LOVE AND REASON.

^ OULD I her faults remember,

Forgetting every charm,
Soon would impartial reason

The tyrant love disarm :
But when enraged I number
Each failing of her mind,
Love still suggests each beauty,
And sees while reason's blind.



SHERIDAN



TO LADIES' EYES.




ladies' eyes around, boy,
We can't refuse, we can't refuse,
Tho' bright eyes so abound, boy,

Tis hard to choose, 'tis hard to choose.
For thick as stars that lighten

Yon airy bow'rs, yon airy bow'rs,
The countless eyes that brighten

This earth of ours, this earth of ours.
But fill the cup where'er, boy,

Our choice may fall, our choice may fall,
We're sure to find love there, boy,
So drink them all ! so drink them all !

Some looks there are so holy,

They seem but giv'n, they seem but giv'n
As splendid beacons, solely

To light to heav'n, to light to heav'n.



TO LADIES" EYES. 13

While some oh ! ne'er believe them

With tempting ray, with tempting ray,
W r ould lead us (God forgive them !)

The other way, the other way.
But fill the cup where'er, boy,

Our choice may fall, our choice may fall,
We're sure to find love there, boy,

So drink them all ! so drink them all !

In some, as in a mirror,

Love seems portray'd, love seems portray'd,
But shun the flattering error,

'Tis but his shade, 'tis but his shade.
Himself has fix'd his dwelling

In eyes we know, in eyes we know,
And lips but this is telling

So here they go ! so here they go !
Fill up, fill up where'er, boy,

Our choice may fall, our choice may fall,
We're sure to find love there, boy,

So drink them all ! so drink them all !

MOORE.



KITTY OF COLERAINE.

> S beautiful Kitty one morning was tripping
With a pitcher of milk for the fair of Cole-

raine,
When she saw me she stumbled, the pitcher down

tumbled,

And all the sweet buttermilk watered the plain.
' Oh, what shall I do now ! 'twas looking at you

now,

I'm sure such a pitcher I'll ne'er see again.
'Twas the pride of my dairy oh, Barney McCleary,
You're sent as a plague to the girls of Coleraine.'

I sat down beside her, and gently did chide her
That such a misfortune should give her such pain ;

A kiss then I gave her, and before I did leave her
She vowed for such pleasure she'd break it again



KITTY OF COLERA1NE. 15

'Twas the haymaking season I can't tell the reason,
Misfortunes will never come single, 'tis plain,

For very soon after poor Kitty's disaster,
The devil a pitcher was whole in Coleraine.

ANON,




LESBIA HATH A BEAMING EYE.

ESBIA hath a beaming eye,

But no one knows for whom it beameth ;
Right and left its arrows fly,

But what they aim at no one dreameth.
Sweeter 'tis to gaze upon

My Nora's lid that seldom rises ;
Few its looks, but every one,

Like unexpected light, surprises !

Oh, my Nora Creina, dear !
My gentle, bashful Nora Creina !
Beauty lies
In many eyes,
But love in yours, my Nora Creina !

Lesbia wears a robe of gold,

But all so close the nymph hath lac'd it,
Not a charm of beauty's mould

Presumes to stay where nature plac'd it.



LESBIA HATH A .BEAMING EYE. 17



Oh ! my Nora's gown for me,

That floats as wild as mountain breezes,
Leaving every beauty free

To sink or swell as Heaven pleases !

Yes, my Nora Creina, dear \

My simple, graceful Nora Creina !

Nature's dress

Is loveliness

The dress you wear, my Nora Creina.

Lesbia hath a wit refin'd,

But when its points are gleaming round us,
Who can tell if they're design'd

To dazzle merely, or to wound us?
Pillow'd on my Nora's heart,

In safer slumber Love reposes

Bed of peace ! whose roughest part

Is but the crumpling of the roses.

Oh, my Nora Creina, dear !
My mild, my artless Nora Creina !
Wit, tho' bright,
Hath not the light
That warms your eyes, my Nora Creina.

MOORE.



THE BO YS OF KILKENNY.



H, the boys of Kilkenny are nate roving blades,
And whenever they meet with the nice little

maids,
They kiss them and coax them and spend their money

free !
Oh, of all the towns in Ireland, Kilkenny for me !



Through the town of Kilkenny there runs a clear

stream,

In the town of Kilkenny there lives a fair dame :
Her cheeks are like roses, and her lips much the

same,
Or a dish of ripe strawberries smothered in cream.

Her eyes are as black as Kilkenny's famed coal,
And 'tis they through my poor heart have burned a
big hole ;



THE BOYS OF KILKENNY. 19

Her mind, like its river, is deep, clear, and pure,
And her heart is more hard than its marble, I'm sure.

Oh, Kilkenny's a fine town, that shines where it

stands,

And the more I think on it the more my heart warms :
If I was in Kilkenny I'd feel quite at home,
For it's there I'd get sweethearts, but here I get none.

ANON.




SONG.

CJv

NE'ER could any lustre see

In eyes that would not look on me ;

I ne'er saw nectar on a lip,
But where my own did hope to sip.
Has the maid who seeks my heart
Cheeks of rose, untouched by art ?
I will own the colour true,
When yielding blushes aid their hue.
Is her hand so soft and pure ?
I must press it, to be sure ;
Nor can I be certain then,
Till it, grateful, press again.
Must I, with attentive eye,
Watch her heaving bosom sigh ?
I will do so, when I see
That heaving bosom sigh for me.

SHERIDAN,



YOUGHALL HARBOUR.

NE Sunday morning into Youghall walking,

I met a maiden upon the way,
Her little mouth sweet as fairy music,

Her soft cheeks blushing like dawn of day.
I laid a bold hand upon her bosom,

And ask'd a kiss ; but she answered, ' No :
Fair sir, be gentle, do not tear my mantle ;
'Tis none in Erin my grief can know.

' Tis but a little hour since I left Youghall,

And my love forbade me to return ;
And now my weary way I wander

Into Cappoquin, a poor girl forlorn.
Then do not tempt me ; for, alas ! I dread them

Who with tempting proffers teach girls to roam,
Who'd first deceive us, then, faithless, leave us,

And send us shamefaced and barefoot home/



22 YOUGHALL HARBOUR.

c My heart and hand here ! I mean you marriage ;

I have loved like you and known love's pain ;
If you turn back now to Youghall Harbour

You ne'er shall want house or home again.
You shall have a lace cap like any lady,

Cloak and capuchin, too, to keep you warm,
And, if God please, maybe, a little baby

By-and by to nestle within your arm. 7

ANON.

( Trans, from the Celtic by
Sir Samuel Ferguson. )




THE BRIGHT LITTLE GIRL.



e y es tne y b eam an d they twinkle,
Her lips have made smiling more fair ;
On cheek and on brow there's no wrinkle,
But thousands of curls in her hair.



She's little, you don't wish her taller ;

Just half through the teens is her age ;
And baby or lady to call her,

Were something to puzzle a sage !

Her walk is far better than dancing ;

She speaks as another might sing ;
And all by an innocent chancing,

Like lambkins and birds in the spring.

UnskilPd in the airs of the city,
She's perfect in natural grace ;



24 THE BRIGHT LITTLE GIRL.

She's gentle and truthful and witty,

And ne'er spends a thought on her face

Her face, with the fine glow that's in it,
As fresh as an apple-tree bloom ;

And oh ! when she comes, in a minute,
Like sunbeams she brightens the room.

As taking in mind and in feature,
How many will sigh for her sake !

I wonder the sweet little creature
What sort of a wife she would make.

W. ALLINGHAM.




MOLLY CAREW.

k CH hone ! and what will I do ?
Sure my love is all crost
Like a bud in the frost,

And there's no use at all in my going to bed ;
For 'tis dhrames and not sleep comes into my head
And 'tis all about you,
My sweet Molly Carew
And indeed 'tis a sin and a shame :
You're complater than Nature
In every feature,
The snow can't compare
With your forehead so fair,

And I rather would see just one blink of your eye
Than the purtiest star that shines out of the sky
And by this and by that,
For the matter o' that,
You're more distant by far than that same !

Och hone ! wirrasthrue !
I'm alone in this world without you,



26 MOLLY CARE IV.



Och hone ! but why should I spake
Of your forehead and eyes,
When your nose it defies

Paddy Blake, the schoolmaster, to put it in rhyme ?
Tho' there's one Burke, he says, that would call it

snublime.

And then for your cheek !
Throth, 'twould take him a week
Its beauties to tell as he'd rather.
Then your lips ! oh Machree !

In their beautiful glow
They a patthern might be

For the cherries to grow.

'Twas an apple that tempted our mother, we know
For apples were scarce, I suppose, long ago ;
But at this time o' day,
Ton my conscience, I'll say
Such cherries might tempt a man's father !


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