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ME OWN HOME RULE COAT. (A Ditty by J. Bawn.)

Some sing of new invenshuns, I'll say that Home Rule's comin', And say- they're up-ta-date; An' me coat I will unfold; And of the scars, and of the wars I'll tell them that it's passed the House That we have had of late. By men of Green and Gold. Of motor cars and mo,tor "bars," I'll say, "I was a rebel wanst." And of the motor boat, They'll say_uIn the same boat"­ But they're nought at all in Donegal But times will soon be altered To me own Home Rule Goat. Wid me own Home Rule Coat.

This coat of green grew on green hills of It's now I'm gain' to leave ye, Caledonia, And sail away from Cork, 'Twas carded by an En glish lass And cross the briny ocean Close to the Broomielaw, To Brooklyn and New York, 'Twas woven by an Orange girl in a mill Where I'll meet with friend and neibors beside a moat, When I come off the boat, So it represents the Union, And they'll "sh ake" me all from Donegal Does me own Home Rule Coat. In me own Home Rule Coat.

I'll soon go down to Belfast Let bygones be forgotten, Wid the wearing 0' the green , Let Irishmen all join I'll pluck an Orange lily th ere And niver fight o'er Limerick Where Sandy Row had been; o.r the battle of the Boyne. 'Twill be a combinashun Wan flag will do our nashun, Just like what Davis wrote, An' let it gently float For soon we'll be united, Above ye all in Donegal Wid me own Home Rule Coat. Wid me own Home Rl,Ile Goat. 2 OLD COME-ALL-~ j S. THE MOUN,{AINS OF MOURNE. You remember young Peter O'Loughlin, of course--- Oh, Mary, this London's a wonderful Well, here he is here at t he head of the sight force. Wid the people ihere workin' by day and I met him to-day, I was crossing the by night; Strand, They don't sow potatoes, nor barley, nor And he stopped the whole street wid wan wheat, wa ve of his hand. But there's gangs of them diggin' for gold And there he stood talking of days that in th ~ stree~ are gone, At least, when I axed them, that's what I While the whole population of London was told; looked on; So I just took a hand at the digging for But for all these great powers he's wish­ . gold. ful, like me, But for all that I found there I might as To be back where dark Mourne sweeps well be down to the sea. Where the Mountains 0 ' Mourne sweep down to the sea. There's beautiful girls here- oh, never mind, I bel1eve that when writing a wish you Wid beautiful shapes na.ture never de­ expressed signed; As to how the fine ladies in London were And lovely complexions, all roses and dressed; crame, Well, if you'll believe, when axed to a But O'Loughlin remarked wid regard to ball, They don't wear a top to their dresses them same- at all. "That if all those roses you venture to Oh, I've seen them myself, and you could sip The colours might all come away on your not in throth, lip," Say if they were bound for a ball or a bath, So I'll wait 10r the wild rose that's wait­ Don't be starting them fashions now, ing for me Mary Machree, Where the Mountains 0' Mourne sweep down to the sea. Where the Mountains 0 ' Mourne sweep down to the sea. MARY'S REPLY. I seen 1!Jngland's King from the top of a bus- Dear Shamus, I've learned all your letter I never knew him, though he mea ns to by heart; know us; I've read it so often, I know every part, And though by the Saxon we once were For when it arrived everybody here oppressed, knew, St!ll I cheered- God forgive me-I And they all came to hear the good tid­ cheered with the rest. ingS from you And now that he's visited Er in's green r need not explain that r missed out the shore, part We'll be much better friends than we've Where you put little crosses and words been heretofore. like sweetheart. When we've got all we want we're as quiet For my h eart said to me, "You must read as can be them alone, Where the Mountains 0' Mourne sweep In the light of the moon by the Moun­ down to the sea. tains 0 ' Mourne. OLD COME-ALL-YE:'S. 3

I tould them you'd met England's King, O'h, Shamus, I don't want to spoil your and all that, career. And that he recognised you by raising But, God knows, I wish you were back his hat, again here. But I didn't explain that the cause of the fuss Sure its lonely avic, waiting day after Was you saw him pass by from the top day, of a bus; For one face that, alas, never passes this But the part they like best, sure, is where way, you confess, But don't think I'm pining; you're bette:, That in spite of th e glamour and all your it's true, success, Say you'll wait for the wild rose-"o I '!i Your thoughts often wander to where wait for you. you were born, 1110' Friendship may comfort, yet Love i ~ And you long to be back by the Moun­ forlorn, tains 0' Mourne. While waiting for you by the Mountaui. 0' Mourne. It's good of you, Sham us, to send me that dress, But the size of the waist-tell me, how did you guess? Sure, it fits me so tight, that Kate, in I'M GOING TO BUNCRANA. bad taste, Said your arm had measured some other one's waist; Without you I feel weary, If I thought it was true, now I think I The day seems long and dreary, should die, I miss your voice so cheery, But the girls are so jealous-perhaps it's My little Swilly Rose; a lie; Then, farewell care and sorrow, A day from toil I'll borrow And maybe yo u guessed from the dress And meet you, dear, to-morrow that I'd worn, Where old Mm River flows. When we walked arms-linked, by the Mountains 0' Mourne. Chorus: I'm going to Buncrana, Some great things have happened, of To see my fair Roseanna, course, since you went, She's brighter than Di.ana, Well, Kate's got a young man , th at's the She's all the world to me; greatest event, Her graceful form so slender, Her voice so sweet and tender, He's employed at a gunpowder works, by Her smiling eyes in splendour, the way, Have charms divine to see. And he may get a rise any minute they say. She sings till "Encore" after, Her parents don't think his position's Brings loud applause and laughter, secure, Admirers seek her, dafter, And forbid her to see the POOl' lad any Their compliments to pay: more. They're all so fond of Rosie, Sh e looks so neat and cosy; But for what notice Kate takes I'll be My darlin' she's a "posie," sworn, And I know sh e's O.K. They might as well talk to the Moun­ T. B. tains 0 ' Mourne. Derry. 4 OLD COME-ALL-YE'S.

PILOJ: llIARLES O'BOYLE-·RUTLAND The sentence it was heavy, shocking ISLAND. people far and near, Banishment from home and kin and land he loved so dear. One stormy night in winter when the To far off Van D!emen's Land seven years sea rolled mountains high, he had to go- A barque with all sails spread O'Boyle, The Pride· of Rutland rsl!and, 'twas a sad the pilot, did descry and cruel biow. "To the boat, my men," his order was, and hurried be ye, all, And try and save this distressed ship off the Coast of Doneg,aJ. A TWELFTH JULY SONG. The men oomplied with willingness; O'Boyle his skill did show, Come ! pledge again thy heart and By guiding his boat o'er shoals and reefs hand- whUe his men did ably row. One grasp that ne'er shall sever; The barque she flew her signal-dIstress 0111' watchword be-"OUr Native Land! " it did proclaim- 0111' motto_"Love' for Ever!" And c:YBoyle cried to his oarsmen "You And let the Orange IDy be are worthy of your fame." Thy badge, my patr!ot-brother­ The everlasting Green for me ; The barque was reached in safety; And we for one another. O'Boyi.e on deck he sprung, The captain warmly greeted him, say­ Behold ihow green th·e· gallant stem, Ing, "Your work it is well done. On Which the flower Is blOwing, "This barque I give you in command, to How in one heavenly breeze and beam guide her safe to port, Both flower and stem are glowing. "You'll save our lives and cargo if our The same good soil sustaining both, ship you'll keep afloat." Makes both united flourish But cannot give the Orange growth And cease the Green to nourish. O'Boyle be quick assented, to the captain he did aay, Yea!, more---Lifford Court the law did O'8oyle compel, [The above, one of the finest patriotic That brave and skilful pHot whom his poems in the language, is generally at­ neighbours loved so wen; tributed to Thomas Davis, but as a mat­ The Judge he heard the accuser, and the ter of fact it was written by a King's jury to a man County cabinetimaker named John de Agreed that the pilot was a very Jean Fraser, for a Twelfth July assembly guilty one. in the year 1843.] OLD COME-ALL-YE'S. . ______5_ _

WILLIE REILLY AND ms COLLEEN The lady with a tear began, and t~us BAWN. replied did she: "Oh, rise up, WiUy Rellly, and come along "The fault is none of Reilly's, the blame with me! lies all on me. I mean for to go with you and leave this forced him for to leave his place and country. come along with me; To leave my father's dwelling, his houses I loved him out of measure which has and free lands"- wrought our destiny." And away goes Willy Reilly and his dear Then out bespoke the noble Fox, at the Colle"en Bawn. table he stood by, They go by hills and mountains and by "Oh! gentlemen, consider, on this ex­ yon lonesome plain, tremity; Through shady groves and valleys from To hang a man for love Is a murder you all dangers to refrain; may see, But her father followed after with a So spare the life of Reilly and banished well-armed band, let him be." And taken was poor Reilly and his dear The Father. Colleen Bawn. "Good, my lord, he stole from her, her Yes, home then she was taken and in diamonds and her rings, her closet bound; Gold watch, and silver buckles, and Poor Reilly all in Sligo Jail lay on the many precious things; stony ground, Which cost me In bright guineas more Till at the bar of justice before the judge than five hundred pounds; he'd stand I will have the life of Reilly should I lose For stealing of that heiress, the dear ten thousand pounds." Cblleen Bawn. The Daughter. Now Wiily's dressed irom top to toe all "Good, my lord, I gave them, as tokens in a "s uit of green, of true love, His hair hangs o'er his shoulders most And when we are a parting I will them glorious to be seen; all remove, He's tall and straight and comely as any If you have got them, Reilly, pray, send can be found, them home to me. He 's fit for Folliard's daughter was she They're poor compared to that true love heiress to a Crown. which I ha ve given to thee. The Judge he said, "this lady being in "There is a ring among them I allow her tender youth, yourself to wear, If Reilly has deluded her she will de­ With thirty locket diamonds well set in clare the truth." silver fair, Then like a mOving beauty bright before As a true lover's token wear It on your him she did stand- right hand, "You're welcome there, my heart's de­ That you may think of my broken heart light," the dear Colleen Bawn. when in a foreign land." "Ooh, gentlemen," Squire FOlliard said, Then out spoke noble Fox, "you may let "with pity look on me, the" prisoner go, This villain came amongst us to disgrace The lady's oath has cleared him, as the our country, jm-y all may know. And by his base contrivance this She has released her own true love and villainy was planned, has renewed his name, If I don't get satisfaction I will quit this May her honour bright gain high estate Irish I"n ri ." and her otrspring rise to fame." 6 OLD COME-ALL-YE'S.

LURGY STREAM. The sun sh all cease to give its light, When into this' country first I came, No more to rule the day ; My mind from love being free; The moon in her twilight The charm of the- female sex No more shall rule the night. Had not enticed me The twinkling star, the dawn shall come, Until I beheld a charming maid And n o more be seen again Who set my h eart aflame- The hour that I prove false to thee Her nut-brown hair wa$ in the ail', Along sweet Lurgy St ream. She dwells near Lurgy stream. Farewell to Letterkenny town, It was on a Sunday evening Likewise Lough S'wllly shore, My love I chanced to meet; Where many's the- pleasant day I spent I took her in my arms Tha t I never sh all see- more. And told her a story sweet. And twice' farewell to sweet Ardghais, I asked her if she'd marry me Where of times :r have been, Or single still remain, Likewise to Kilmacrenan town, Or if she would cross the seas with me That stands near Lurgy s tream. And leave sweet Lurgy St ream. THE IRISH JAUNTING CAR. She says, "young man be easy and No more of your foolish talk I am an Irish carman, Old Erin is my home, It wasn't for going away from h ere There's not a spot on all the earth That I came here to walk. From here I wish to roam. Kind Cupid's dart ne 'er pierced my h eart I like to treat the s,tran gers as I d ri ve Or set it in a flame, them near and far .I'm fre-e from love and I'll always be To the sights and scenes of old Ireland Along sweet Lurgy's Stream. on my Irish. Jaunting Car. (Chorus.) "Besides, if I were to go with you I would be much to blame; For driving on my jaunting car, Besides, kind sir, I am too young, From Roscommon to Kildare; From Dub.lin down to CastJlebar, My parents would me disown. And from that to County Clare; And if unfaithful you would prove From Cork to Wicklow and Athlone, Full sore would I complain And home by Mullingar, The hour that I'd forsake my friends You can view the Lakes of Killarney Along sweet Lurgy Stream." from my Irish Jaunting Car. He says "my pretty fair maid Some people now for ch an ge of scene If you come along with me Go far across the m ain , To view the sights and sceneries You'll find me always faithful Of Italy and of Spain ; And ever true and kind. But if Nature only could command, they I'm bound for the North of America, wouldn't go so far, You'll never see me aga-in; But come and have a drive with me on My h eart will break when I think to p ~u t my Irish Jaunting Ca r. With you and sweet Lurgy St ream." (Chorus.) My lover's cheeks are like the rose Ould Ireland for fine scenery Blooms in the month of June; Commands the poet's pen ; Her teeth are like the ivory brigh t Sure Ireland on the battlefiel d Can place the best of men ; And her breath like sweet perfume, And in the field Humanity's old I re'and's Her slender waist, her snow-white bre ~ ~ t. guiding star, Have set my heart afl ame, So come and have a drive with me on Her habitation it lies near my Irish Jaunting Car. Unto sweet Lurgy Stream. (Chorus.) OLD COME-ALL-YE'S. 7

JOHN'S DREAM.

Air-UViIliken's and Dinah."

[The Derry GuilOhall was consumed by fire on Easter Sunday afternoon; ~~th April, 1908, and the inspiration for the lines of "John's Dream" was derived from this disastrous confiagration and incidents connected therewith. The poet's prophecy came true regarding the rebuilding and the improvements of the points of the old Hall "of which many complain."]

Come, citizens, listen, I'll sing you a So I packed up my traps and made off song; to Ostend, And kindly have patience, it's gOing to Where everyone bathes as a neighbour be long, and friend, It's about a great dream which I had the But the Season's not on, so to Brussels - other day, I flew, O~', to be more correot, afternoon, I For I wanted to visit the famed should say. Waterloo. Chorus-Ri-tooral-U-Iooral, etc. I put up at a sort of Lough Swilly Hotel, You know I am Mayor of the CLty this Not quite so picturesque, but they treat year, you as well, A position in which I am proud to And on Sunday I lunched after reading appear, the news, And I'm running the show just as well And lay down for my usual smoke and a as I can snooze. On a new and improved economical plan. As I dozed, in a flash I was back on the Quay I saw long ago that few Councillors knew When the clock c'himed th.ee-quarters 0'1.' cared how the rates so enormously past twelve, and could see grew, A friend here and there out of Church When I struggled expenses to keep with­ With his Book, in bounds, And the good Duke of York coming While I watched the halfpence, they round by the Crook. squandered tJhe pounds. But there, let that pass or we'll never be I took out my watch to compare with tJhe done, clock And my dream will be vanished before And heard some one say, and I saw, with I've begun, a shock, That a chimney or something was badly But no, while I live that wild vision will be on fire Impressively vivid and real to me. For the sparks and the smo'ke mounted higher and higher. At Easte'r I felt that I wanted a change, Spoken-I must here ask you 'to do with­ To see and to hear something pleasant oUlt the Chorus, as the subject has be­ and strange, come too exciting to waste time on And M'Carter assured me it would not be such repetitions, and, besides, it would wrong proJ:ong t h e ditty to an indefinite To spend a few days on the gay COn­ length; the remaining verses will tinong. tJherefore be given as .il- recitative. 8 OLD COME -ALL-YE'S.

Then the whole scene-was changed while Again the cheers rose, they were most you'a Wink, and a flame pleasant sounds, Through the Hall ventilators imme­ And our Engine, which cost us a cool diately came, thousand pounds, And fanned by the breeze, which was Dashed on to the scene as if madly in North-East and stlrong, haste, The mad blaze was raptdly carried And prepared many gallons of water to along. waste. All now was confusion, the crowd surged I waited and waited, and so did the around crowd, And shoutea for those who were not to And I heard their remarks, which were be found; angry and loud; I joined in the noise, "Where's Sir Then someone remarked, "Do not blame Henry?" I crie-d. the machine, "At Portrush"-"Where's the others?" 'f'here is no one to work her, and never -"There, too," they replied. h as been." "Whe1'e's Phillips, or Hunter or Flnd­ Ano-ther observed, "The Brigade is all lay?" I raved, right, "Bring out our New F)ngine or nothing If they only had water they'd pump any is saved; height; " 'Phone over to Campbell, but no, h e is But KiI!ea is cut off, and we'll want to here." know why, "Whe,re are you, yourself?" asked a voice T'h.at Committee must give us a candid with a snee'r. reply." This roused me, still I could not move shivered at this, till th.e crowd again about, cheered, I could see, hear, and speak, and I As the brave-Hampshire Boys with their even could shout; hose now appea red; I heard Tommy OIKane calling Wildly You all know how t hey worked, with such for aid, heal·ty goodwill And soon saw all his windows Witlh Tha t they saved what remains of our buckets arrayed. City H aill still. Then I thought of my picture, which Ou r Engine remained like a great puffing cost such a sum, toy, And on "William and Mary," 1 stood al­ I was mad, and I ordered a smart-:ooking most dumb, boy Till I saw Meena·n climb like the athlete To tell them to drop their long hose in he is, the Foyle; Ana tear down the pictures as if they Says he : "they've not got it-just ask were his. Denis Boyle." Then Coghlan, Hall, Wllton, M'Keown, That moment bold Denis came dancing and some more, along, With bravery dragged them through Says he-and his words were expressive Windows and door ; and sltrong- And I smiled when I saw who the "When I axed them to tackle the blazes rescuers were, behind For my flne "'Prentice" Boys were not Th ey said: 'blazes be hanged; we are numerous there. fighting the Wind.''' OLD COME-ALt-YE'S. f) ------~ Another great cheer, and now everyone A knock at the door made me start up thought and scream, That our engine would do that fo r which And the Waiter completed my terrible it was bought, dream For it certainly squirted some water By saying, "Here, sir, is a message for around, you," But it might just as wel1 h ave been [ read, and, Oh! horror, my vision was spilled on the ground. true. Some say tlla t t!.1e fire in bhe Organ Nee d I sing any more, you all know what began, is saved, And then to the roof of th' Assembly And how wel1 the police and the people Hal1 ran, behaved; That it played its last chords in appeal­ But it might have been worse, sure we'll ing sad tones build it again. As if crying for help and protection to A.nd improve all the points of which Jones. many complain, Our splendid big clock, as the flames licked its face, THE MAN OF THE NORTH COUNTRIE. Chimed out its fOUl'bh quarter with musical grace, (This is a poem of much higher quality And struck its last ho ur as the hands than the ordinary bal1ad. The author is stoOd at two Thomas D'Arcy M'Gee.) Like a fearless old veteran saying adieu. He came from the North and his words In my dream I now jumped to the front were few, of the Hall But his voice was kind and his heart was And stood on the top of our gun­ true; mounted Wall; And I knew by his eyes no guile had he, The work of destruction I saw was com­ So married the man of the North plete, Countrie. For the fl ames through the windows hissed out to the street. Oh! Garryowen may be more gay, '!'han this quiet street of Ballibay; But stop, who goes there with his Sunday And I know the sun shines softly down silk hat, On the' river that passes my native town. Giving orders an,llooking what next he'll be at? It's our gallant Sir John, now so reck­ But there's not-I say it with joy and lessly keen pride- On saving the Robes, Plate, and Busts, Better man than mine in Munster wide; and the Queen. And Limerick town has no h'appier hearth "My Parlour! My Parlour! Sir Henry," I Than mIne has been with my man of the say. North. "Why are all the Officials, this Easter away? I wish that in Munster they only knew No, not all, good old Robinson you're to The kind, kind neighbours I came unto; the fore, Small hate or scorn would ever be Well, you'l1 bear aIJ the blame and tbe Between the South and the ' North scolding once more." C'ountrie. to OLD COME:-ALL-Y'E'S. So now to conclude and make an end, I MAID OF SWEET GORTEEN. take my pen in h and- John O'Brlen is my n ame and flowery Is Come all you gentle musings, combine my land, and lend an ear My days were spent in merriment since To I enfold the praises of a comely my darling I flrst seen, maiden fair. And her abode lay near the road in a The curling of h er yellow locks has stole place called Sweet Gorteen. away my heart, And death, I am sure, shall be the cure If her and I do part. "MY OWN OULD IRISH HOME." Oh, far off flel's are butiful, It was my cruel father that caused all our An' far off cities tine, woe, An' far off men are migh ty nice, He locked her in a closed room and would An' far off girls-divine. not leave her go; I've seen some places far away, Her windows I did fairly watch, thinking But never let me roam, she might be seen, In hopes to get another glimpse of the If any spot wh ere I have been, Maid of Sweet Gorteen. Is better than ould h ome. For och! it is a purty place, My fatl1er he came to me and this to me A dear ould place, a darlin' plr- ce, did say: An' bUssins on its sonsy face, "Son, dear son, be advised by one, don't throw yourself away. My own ould Irish home. To marry a poor servant girl, and her parents so mean, I've looked on splendid girls abroad, So stay at home and do not roam but With faces gran 'ly fine, along with me remain." But would they match the sweet wee one I h ere at h ome call mine, They flash like sunshine on the eye, It's "Father, dearest father, do not part me from my dear; An' give a sharp short smart. I would not part this darling girl fo r a But this wee one at home comes in thousand pounds a year. An' lodges In the heart, Was I possessed of Edward's crown I"d make her my Queen, For och! its h ere the winsome girl, And In high renown to wear the crown with the Maid of Sweet Gorteen." The dear wee girl, the charmln' girl, Love's softly shining darl1n' pearl, So sweetly set at home. My father In a passion flew and thus t o me did say : Then blissin's on the dear ould spot, "If that's the case within this place no longer shall she be ; An' blissln' on her be, Mind what I say, from tllis very day her For h er or it go where I will, face you ne'er shall see, No aiqual can I see. For I'll sen d her to sorn e lonesome place An' every time when I'm away, - some place that's far away." No matter where I roam, My heart grows lighter still as 1 And in a few days after a horse h e did Draw near to her and home. prepare, And sen t my darling far from me to a For och! there's rapture in her face, place r know not where. An ocb. ! but it's the darlin' place. I may go to reside in my darling's house, (If I could only get more pace) where of times sh e h as been, My own Quid Irish home. But h ere In pain I still remain for the -Barney Maglone. Matli o~ Sweet Gorteen. OLD OOME-ALL-i'E'S. 11 .~------~--~----~ CARNTOHER BRAES. WILLSBORO'. You foreign strangers give' attention A.bove all the lands upon the earth Till I relate these few lines to you, There's none so dear to me Of a habitatlOn in the Irish nation AS Eirin's Isle, my native h.ome, Of the river FoyIe it Sltands in view. That lies beyond the sea; And in that land there's not a spot This h'abination would recre'ate you So worthy of my praise If your mind was sunk or your spirits As where my youthful days were spent low, Round Carntoher Braes. With fragrant posies and densest roses Aro-und the walls of old Willsboro. How nice it was to roam those hills If you were to view it on a summer's Before the early dawn, morning Where on the west the Foyle blows best, While pinks and daisies bedeck ea~h On the east the River Bann, lea, And when the sun 11is day's work's done It would remind you of that blessed Would westward fling his rays garden His best bright beams would shine in Where EJve was clothed from the green streams fig tree. Round Carntoher Braes. o Willsboro, your lands are charming, Th.e tide it washes sweet Erin's soil, On a summer Sunday evening And on it stands the majestic cedar Up to these hills we'd go; That guides the ships down the river The lads and lasses would flock up Foyle. From those green vales below; Where the duck and millet the trout and There on the green they'd sit and sing salmon, Some fine old Irish airs, The finny tribes in shoals do go, Or dance until the sun went down The sporting angler both night and Round C'arntoher Braes. morning His lines does cast round Willsboro. But in those days I never thought Had I the mind of some bright genius, That I wo uld have to roam, I would paint its picture in brightest To leave those lovely heath-clad hills, colours, Likewise my native home. With pen and paper at my command, But troubled fate has caused it so To chee-r the exiles in a far-off land. That I must sail the "says," And bid adieu to you awhile I have bravelled France, and travelled Round C'arntoher Braes. Flarlders, Round Mexico, likewise Peru; In all my bra vels I was discon ten ted But when our dear old land is free Willsboro, when I thought of you! We'll all return again; Our former sports we will renew (The foregoing* lines* * we-re probab~y As in the days of yore, never written, but attained to a certain When cruel landlords' barques we'll steer popularity in ora.l form. Recently they For ever from our quays, were jotkd down from tJhe dictation of !'hen we'll dig for gold instead of turf an aged resident In the county Derry dis­ trict named, and to comply wibh the ex­ Round Carntoher Braes. igencies of the rhyme, the locality is pro­ nounced Wills-bun-oh, with the accent - c. O'Boyle. on the last syllable). 12 ______O_L_D_COMI!:-ALL-YE'S.

THE RIGHTS OF MAN. I speak In candour, Through the az ure sky One night in slumber, I then did spy My mind did wander A man to fly. Near to Athlone­ And he fast descends­ The centre sta tion Straight way comes down Of this Irish nation Upon the ground Where a congl'egaLLm When 1')rin round To me was shown Had her bosom friends. Beyond my counting His dazzling mitre, Upon a mountain .l\nd cross was brigh ter Near to a fountain Than stars by night 01' That closely nn, The mid-day sun, I seemed to tremble And in accents rare (I'll not di sse mb l~), I do declare As they assemblp. d He prayed success For the ~Ughts of Man. To the Rights of Man. All clad in green When prayer was ended There I thought I seen He condescended A virtuous being His h and to lend it Who was grave and old. In Freedom's cause. Saying: "Children, dear, He says "I'll aid you. Now do not fear And always lead you But come and hear And still persuade you What I will unfold. To Christian laws. This fertile country, When in affliction Near seven centuries, Or sad restriction Since Strongbow entered My benediction Upon our land, Wit.h uplifted h and Has been kept under I m ay explain it, By foes unnumbered You sh all obtain it And always plundered And always gain it Of the Rights of Man. With the Rights of Man. My Cause you chided, When th e population And so derided, 0 1' congregation When all divided In exultation Alas you know; Agreed to part And in disorder They shook h ands like brothers Round E;rin's border And kissed each other Strife, grief, and murder, While friendship smothered Has laid you low. Each Irish heart. Let each communion, They separated, .Detest disunion All exhilarated, And in love and .union And animated Join h and in hand, At what went on; And believe In Grania And as day was breaking, Thu t proud Britannia Poor Shiels awaking, No more shall rob you C'l'ied "StHl be true Of the RI~hts of Man." To the Rights of Man." OLD COME-ALL-YE'S, 13

T HE OUL' PLAID SHAWL, Oh! some men sigh for riches, and some men live for fame, Not far from old Kinvara, in the merry month of May, And some on history's pages hope to mn a glorious name; When birds were singing cheerily, there came across my way. My aims are not ambitious, and my As if from out the s1;:y above an angel wishes are but small- ch anced to fall, You might wrap them all together in an A little Irish cailil1 in an ould plaid ould plaid shawl. shawl. I'll seek her all through Galway, and I'll Sile trippecl along right joyously. a bas · seek her all througli. Clare, ket on her arm; I'll search for tale or tiding of my travel­ And, oh! her face, and, oh! her grace, ler everywhere, the so ul of saint would charm ; For peace of mind I'll never find until Her brown h air rippled o'er h er brow, my own I call but greatest charm of all That little Irish cailin in her ould plaid Was h er modest bl ue eyes beaming shawl. 'neath the ould plaid shawl. Francis A, Falty. I courteously saluted her, "God save you, miss," says I ; KITTY OF COLERAINE, "God save you, kindly sir," says sh e, and sh yly passed me by; As beautiful Kitty one morning was Off went my heart aJ ong with h er, a tripping captive in h er thrall , With a pitcher of milk for the fair of Imprisoned in the corner of her ould C'oleraine, plaid shawl. Wihen she saw me she stumbled, the pitcher down tumbled, And all the sweet buttermilk wate·red the Enchanted with her beauty rare, I gazed plain. in pure delight, Till round ;e n angle of the road she van­ "Oh, what shaJI I do now? 'TvI'as look­ ish ed from my sight' Ing at you now! But ever since I sighing say, as I thaL I'm sure such a pitcher I'll ne'er see scene recall, again. "The grace of God about you and your 'Twas the pride of my dairy. Oh, ould plaid shawl." Ba-rney M'Cleary, You're sent as a plague to the girls of I've h eard of highway robbers that. with C'oleraine." pistols and with knives, Make trembling travellers yield them up I sat down beside her, and gently did their money or their lives, chide he'r But think of me that handed out my That such a misfortune should give her h eart and head and all such pain; To a simple little cailin in an ould plaid A kiss then I gave her, and before I did shawl? leave her She vowed for such pleasure she'd break Oh! graceful tile mantillas that the sig­ it again, norinas wear, And tast.eful are the bonnets of Parisian 'Twas the haymaking season-I can't tell ladies fair, the reasQn- But never cloak or h ood or robe, in pal­ Misfortunes will never come singl'e, 'tis plain! ace, bow'r, or h all, For very soon after poor Kitty's disaster Clad half such withcing beauty as that The devil a pitcher was whole in Cole­ ould pl aid sh awl. ralne. 14 OLD COME-ALL-YE'S.

THE STRABANE FLEET. Oh ! it's Dunalong, th at seaport town, If we were landed there, Original Version. INe wo ul d have the best of h arbour, And no dan ger might we fea r. Come all you jolly sea men bold We'll steer our course fo r Dunalong, That plough the raging main, For I think it's our best plan, Give an ear unto my tragedy Or else the Shamrock might be lost­ And I'll relate the same. 'I'h e fleet bound for Strabane. Our Shamrock slowly moved o.ff, And I in her did go ; The wind it changed to the North-West, That very night at six o'clock And dreadful was the night. The stormy winds did blo"';. We loolced out towards Porthall, But we could see no light. It's "count yo ur men," the Captain cried. He·r steaming works remained untouched "For I think we've lost M'Shane." For two long hours or more It was a dreadful passage She logged and heaved most dan'gerously, In the fleet bound for Strabane! Not very far from shore. Her cabin windows were all broke The crew being hearty all the way, There scarcely were left one, ' They sang an old sea f' ong; When the Mate cries to the Oaptain, "0, Molly, I love your daugh tel'- "Str, we'll never reach Strabane." I love no other one." 'TIle wind it changed to th e North-East. And then came on a squa ll; When we came to the New-bridge, All the grub we had on board No danger did we fea r ; Was a bottle of castor oil. Our Captain h e stood on the deck And toid me for to steer. Thank God we landed in Strabane, "Oh, it's steer your helm and port, ml No danger do we fear; boy, We'll drink a h ealth to seamen bold With your bow's towards the lan', And brave, while we lie h ere. For I think we'll have rough weather When looking over Derry Bridge Before we reach Strabane." There is nothing h alf so gran' A3 to view the fle et that sails the deep, From DeITY to Strabane. The l'aging seas rolled mountains high, No mercy from the wave; We expected every minute LOVE OF ERIN. That we'd find a watery grave. (By Ba rney Maglone.) The second shock the Shamrock got All hands were bound to cry: Of all the lands beneath the sun "May the Lord have mercy on our souls, Old Ireland is the dearest one, For near Prehen we Jie ." My green-robed, meek-eyed mother. And though there's trouble on h er brow We took our way to Carrigans, Though p:lin and sorrow mark h er brow, No danger did we fear, Where is there such another ? But looking towards St. Johnston I JOve each hill and flowery dale No light-house did appear. Th at decks my own dear Innisfai1 ; The raging seas rolled mountains high. I love h er sparkling waters; And the wind was blowing strong, love her ruins, grey and old, When the Mate cries to t he Captain: love her sons so true and bold, "Sir! Oh, yonder's Dunalong! '. And- don't I love her daughters! OLD COME-ALL-YE'S. ._ _ _ _ _ 15

DICTATED DITTIES FROM COUNTY DERRY.

A correspondent who takes an interest in the preservation of olden rhymes, laments, and leave-takings, mainly .the composition of village "poets" of half a century ago, has made a collection of those still remembered and occasionally sung in Eiglinton, Faug1ha nvale, and other districts of co.unty Derry. He has sent us some' specimen resultlS of his E'.fl'orts. The verses were dictated to him in some cases by septuagenarians, and, never being committed to writing origin­ ally, the diction is naturally not polished nor is the metrical construction perfect. Shll, they serve as a "link with the past" among the old people of the distlicts in question. Imperfect rhyme and crudity of expression appear in some of the lines of tl1e foilowing ditty, entitled "Derry Town," but nevertheless it is not alto­ gether devoid of poetical merit. Like many of the verses composed in country localities, it is of the "adieu" order.

DERRY TOWN. of the composition will appear from the folloWing stanza:- Farewell unto the lovely place, from it I mean to' roam, One evening as I went to walk not far Called Londonderry of renown and all from Grianan Hill, its shady groves; I met my true love by the way, with Farewell unto myoid sweetheart, Uke­ bursting joy my heart did fill. wise my comrades dear, I gently heIa her by the hand, and on With them I spent some merry nights the grass we botJh sat down, drinking ale and beer. And many a look I fondly took at the lovely maid of Eglinton. I am a Gounty Derry man, the truth for to explain, A further specimen of this oldtillle But now I'm for America, to cross the rural poetry must suffice for the pre­ raging main, sent. It is entitled: It grieves full sore to part with Derry's THE BANKS OF KILREA. mirth and fame, Its beautiful plantations I mig'ht never One evening for my recreation as I see again. roved by the lovely Bann side, For few would see this lovely place all in A couple were in conversation, the girl I'd the month of May, have wished for my bride; A young man discoursing a fair llJaid, When Flora's flowery mantle bedecks the meadows gay; inviting her kindly away, When the blackbird and the golden She said she'd not leave her parents, thrush do echo all around alone on the banks of Kilrea. To the lovely glens and valleys that be near to Den'y Town. He says, "Love, you're one of the fairest, my heart you have wounded full sore; Oome! we'll leave this land of oppression and old Ireland we'll never see more. Another ditty sings the praises of a If you Will consent to go with me, Ytlur fair maid of Eglinton, or ratlher of passage I'm able to pay, Eglintown, to give the place the pronun­ Where we'll reap the fruits of our labour, ciation the rhyme requires. The style far from the banks of Kllrea." 16 OLD COME-ALL-YE'S.

She says, "Sir, it's folly to fiatter, I'll SONGS OF THE GAELIC PEASANTRY. n ever cross over the main, There is danger in crossing deep water, On the other hand the same district force not, yOUI' talk's all in vain; is rich in songs of the Gaelic peasantry, For at home I h ave peace and plenty, my which are replete with a certain idealism passage I'm able to pay, and a rude beauty all their own. SongS like '.' Charlie J ack's Dream" which be­ But I'll reap the fruits of my labour on gins:- the lovely sweet banks of Kllrea." He says, "It's don't you remember, the "One night as I lay slumbering in Phila­ promise you made unto me, delphia town, I t was in the month of November we I dreamt I was in Ireland with all my were ta1King of crossing the sea. friends aroun' You said, I would leave you to roam, you thought I stood on Carn Brae, just taking my last view, flattered me always to stay, Of that little spot called 'Ullin's Glen' And w!hen that the spring would return where first my breath I drew." you would then leave the banks of Kllrea." Or an interesting polemical song which. Its now for fo make a conclusion , I mean begins in this way: - for to lea ve down my pen , "One evening fair to ta l{e the air, Here's a h ealth to the lovely Bann water, Alone I chanced to stray, and my friends all around the Bann Down by the town of Garvagh, I surely end, went my way, Farewell to my comrades for ever, for Where the purling rills and Boylan's now I am going away, mills th eir echoes did resound. 'Twas there I met my ch arming pet, They'll never see me back, no never, on The Star of Garvagh Town. the lovely sweet b'lnks of Kilrea. "The day before -the July fair, I stood amazed; on her I gazed, The Ribbonmen they did prepare She was so straight and tall, To wreck and tear for three miles square I thought she was Diana or the Star And burn the town of Garvagh. of Donegal. The day came on; they did repair, Her lovely hail', beyond compare, In multitudes to Garvagh fail'. O'er her shoulders did hang down. Some travelled thirty miles and mail', Her sloe black eyes did me entice, To burn th e town of Garvagh. Bright Star of Garvagh Town." They all appeared in greatest h aste, White b andkerchiefs tied round their waists, Even the Catholic Battle of Garvagh , But their jackets we did soundly baste, cl'lebrating a victory on the other side, On th at July fail' in Garvagh. is Hot quite so crude as th e rival Orange Then as the fi ght proceeds, the dea t.11 lJuliad. This is its quaint ending:- of the Ribbon leader is thus recorded: "Captain Dooey cried, 'Brave boys,' "Here's a health to M'Nicholl, and long Stan' your groun' and fear no noise may he live ! T:l l,eep us united in brotherly love, We'll massacre these Orange boys, To be at our head in the h our of oU!" And burn the town of Garvagh." need, Scarcely h ad h e turned around, P. terror to all of th e Williamite breed ! T!ll he received a deadly wound, And here's to John Heaney, who walked His heels went up and his h ead went like a man, . down, In the very first rank with his bilton in At the third tree in Garvagh. hand, Tom Sharkey ran with greatest speed. James Mullan and Acheson, too, I must And ltfted Captain Dooey's heed. name. 'Great God! I greatly fear he's deed, And to all that were there, let the Clerk This is a tarrible day in Garvagh.' " say Amen." Otb COME-AtL-ifE'S. 17

THE HILLS OF DONEGAL. Oh, Donegal I long to see your native O'h, Donegal, the pride of all, my heart hills once more, still turns to thee, As I am now an exile upon a foreign My cottage home, where oft I've roamed shore. when I was young and free. Whenever I return again I'll build a Big houses grand in a foreign land can­ castle tall, not compare at all And live where my forefathers lived, and To my cottage bright on a winter's night die in Donegal. on the hills of Donegal. Right well I mind the harvest time, that IT'S AISY TO BE SMILING. doleful dreary day, When I left all in Donegal to wander fsr (By Barney Maglone.) away. It's aisy to be smiling with no bother at Near Gl'eeslough town my friends stood . your heart, roun'; I bid farewell to all, But if you had my share, aroon, you And from the van I waved my han' to t!1e wouldn't look so smart. hills of Donegal. Acushla's gra geal m'anam,' Och! YOIl wouldnt' think it fun, Gazing back through Barnesgap on my If you were me, an' I were you--except own native hill, we both were one. I thought no shame (oh, who could blame) 'twas there I cried my fi ll. It's not that 1: would wish you pain, tho' My parents kind ran in my mind, my throgs you are agra! friends and comrades all- The dearest bothe,ration that I ever felt My heart did ache, I thought 'twould or saw- break, in leaving Donegal. For when I should be sleeping, och! it's From Derry Quay we steamed away, the thinking that I do, waters calm and still; And when I should be waking, sure, I'm Down Lough Foyle our tug did toil to the dbraming about you. big ship at Moville. Some love to see eadh towel' and tree, Then, since my days and nights are lost, each ancient lordly hall, sweet torment for your sake, But my thoughts that day were far away It's not too much to ax you now to keep on the hills of Donegal. a while awake. Round Tory Isle we steamed in style, the So never mind your bed aroon, it's safe mainland we could see, enough this while- Tall Muckish grand, with glistening sand, But as we have no moon to-night, stay smile over Gruckatee; where you are an' smile. Elagh, much more brighter still, looked proudly over all; For though you're not a moon by thrade I heaved a sigh and bid good-bye to the I'll trust to you for light, :hills of Donegal. An' ax no better guide through, life-so jist begin to-night; Amongst those hills St. Columbkille left An' darUn' you'll be proud to find how miracles and cures, aisy led I'll be, Amid streams and dells and holy wells bis While you keep shining down on me realt power it still endures; anam geaJ mochree. § Green Gartan cell and the old Doon Well, where St. Finian's waters fall, ' Thou pulse, thou pure white love of A, simple shrine unchanged by time on my heart. the hills of Donegal. §Pure white s·ta·r of my heart. 18 OLD COME:-ALL-y=E-='S.:..... __~ _ _ _ ~_~_

TURLOUGH O'BOYLE AND AILEEN MacSWEENEY.

Turlough pg O'Boyle was the son of Count O'Boyle, Crannogbuide, Ardara. His residence at Faugher gave him facilities for hunting and fishing in th,e neighbour,hood of Doe Castle the residence of Miles MacSweeney. Aileen, the daug1htel' of MacSweeney, evinced a strong affection towards OIBoyle, which so displeased her fa,ther that he sought the life of Turlogh Og. In his deadly displeasure he succeeded, but too well, as the following lines show;

Wild are thy hills, 0, Donegal, that In his little boat O'Boyle would fioat, a frowning darkly rise, fishing he would go, As if to greet the mist that falls upon With hook and line to Lackagh stream them from the skies; that runs near Oastle Doe. Dark, dark thy hills and darker still thy High in the Oastle tower his loved one mountain torrents fiow, lay confined, But none so dark as Maolmuire's heart in And on its lofty battlements in sorrow his castle llall at Doe. deep she pined. Fair are thy plains, 0, Donegal, and calm At the Castle' strand two boats lay thy winding streams, manned to wait the rising tide, That gently fiow by hut and han beneath Maolmuire there in chief command right the bright sunbeams, cowardly did hide. But Plain or stream or meadow green or And when O'Boyle his homeward course flower upon the lea, steered by the Bishop's Isle, Were not more mild than Maolmuire's They were waylaid and a prisoner made child so sweet and fair was she. of fearless young O'Boyle. Stout grows thy oak, 0, Donegal, and They brought him to the Oastle, in strOng straight thy ashen tree, irons he was bound, And swift and strong thy sons so tall thy And by Maolmuire was confined in a country'S pride to see; dungeon under ground. But oak or ash or young men all that 'But in a few days after inside the grave­ sprung from Irish soil, yard wall Were not more stout, swift, straight and Four stalwart ruffians bore a bier strong than the Ohief of Clan OIBoyle. wra.pped in a funeral pall. He was the pride of Faugher side, near Poor AHeen in he'r tower above beheld the the hills of Ballymore, mournful scene, For feats of strength none equalled him In mute amaze she (l,8,st a gaze on the from Fanad to Gweedore; Castle graveyard green, And he would go through frost and snow All pale and death 19eside a mound of on the merry Christmas Day freshly risen soil; With ringing cheer to hunt the deer from The pall removed, she there beheld, the his haunts in dark Glenveagh. ' fea tures of O'Boyle. Then with a shriek she madly leaped from the tower to the ground, Where by her faithful waiting maid her corpse it cold was found. And in Doe Oastle graveyard green, beneath the mouldering soil, Maolmuire's daughtei' sleeps in dea,th with Turlough Og QlBoyle. OLD OOME-ALL-trE'S. 19 ------~--~----~-- HOW JAMES DALY WAS WRONGLY MY IRISH MOLLY, 01 CONDEMNED. All Letterkenny dwellers, and t hose of Oh! who IS tha.t poor foreigner that lately Derryveagh, came to town, Give ear to how a faithless one James And like a ghost that cannot rest sttll Daly dld betray; wanders up and down? She was a female servant, Madge C'Ul"ran A poor unhappy Scottish youth-if more was her name, you wish to know, She swore DaIy was a Ribbonman who HIS heart is breaking all for love of played a perilous game. I.rish Molly O. In April, 1850, a visit it was planned To the house of Andrew Long, process She1s rnodest, mild, and beautiful, the server-balliff-man; fairest I have known- Here Long was gently "chastised," and a The primrose of Ireland-all blooming promise then he gave, here alone- He 'd no more serve cruel tyranny or be The' primrose of Ireland, for whereso'cr its willing slave. I go, With s.trong rope Long was fast confined, The only one entices me IS Irish Molly O. no evil more was done, Nor box nor blow was given to the' agent, Whelll Molly's father heard of it a solemn Mister Long; oath he swore, Then the Ribbonmen retreated home, just That if she'd wed a foreigner he'd never there to bide some time. see' her more, To see if Long he would imp~'ov e, and He sent for young MacDonald and he from landloTd acts decline. plainly told him SO- Of these tricks on Long poor Daly neither "I'll never give to such as you my Irish heard nor saw, Mally 0." Yet he was arrested as transgressor of (Refrain.) the law; Marched off to Liffo rd J ail, with a com­ MacDonald heard the hea,vy news-and rade, Gon M'Daid, grie1vously dld say: On the information of Madge CUl'J'an, the "Fa,rewe11 my lovely Molly, since I'm heartless servant maid. banished far away, Before I1he great Judge Dohe'rty J ames A poor forlorn pilgrim I must wander -to Daly he did stan', and fro, And strong denied the charge "that he And aJI for the sake of my h1sh Mo~ O. was a Ribbonrnan." Or ever walked beside the gang who "There is a rose in Ireland, I thought it gen tly did chastis'e would be mine; Andrew Long, the process-man, and But now t;ha.t she is lost to me I must for bailiff-man, likewise. , ever pine. His father and his sister, the servant man Till death shall come' to comfort me, for as well, to the grave I'll go, Swore Daly on April five in his father's And all for the sake of my Irish Molly 0." house dld dwell ; But the jUl'y found him guilty-in this (Refrain.) they dld agree- Which shocked both young and old, who And now that I'm dying, this one request thought poor Daly would get free. I crave, To place a marble tombstone above my The Judge pronounced the sentence, it humble grave! was a great sUl"prlSe; And on the stone these simple words I'd It grieved the hearts of tJhous'ands; have engra.ven SO- brought tears to many eyes­ "MacDonald lost his life for love of Irish "Seven years to wear a convict garb in Meny 0." far Van Diemen's Lan'," All through false swearing "that Daly (Refrain. ) was a Ribbonman." 20 ______~ O=t=O_=COME-ALL__ -_Y _E'_S_. ______

THE PIPER FROni THE ROSSES. 'l1his mild and modest piper was greeted far and near, (Shane OIDonnell, the popular musi­ A hundred hearts rejoiced his music for cian of the Lower Rosses, was returning to hear. home from a dance. Darkness and To meet the people's fancies he always storm caused him to wander from the did his best, usual path. He accidentally met a still­ But never to a "still-house" did he go house, where he took refuge. Anna again to rest. Herrigh ty, a very aged woman, came with refreshments to the men, who were LET US BE MERRY BEFORE detained by the severity of the weather.) WE GO. One night in bleak December, the air been keen and chill, The following lines were written over 'l1he piper he decided they all had danced a century ago by the famous Irish their fill; lawyer, John Philpot Curran:- When the dance it was concluded OIDon­ neu felt inclined If sadly thinking, To push his way across the moor and Wi th spirits sinking, leave the youths behind. Oould more than drinking He was not far upon hl.s wa.y when a My cares compose, . llght he did espy; A cure· for sorrow, Towards it went the piper himself for From sighs I'd borrow, to enjoy. And hope to-morrow It was an old sod-cabin perched by the Would end my woes. mountain road, Where oftimes Shane OIDonnell had But as in wailing made it his abode. There's nought a vailing There he got a welcome, as he o·ften go t And Death unfailing before, Will strike the blow. From Rogers and his comrades, and Then for that reason, drink he h ad galore. And for a season, The night was passed in merriment, with Let us be merry songs and peasant lore, Before we go. When to their sad amazement a "p'eeler" barred the door. To joy a stranger, A way-wont ra.nger, The "comrades" cleared in saJe·ty, and In 'every danger the "bobbies" did defy, But Shane and frail old Anna could not My course I've run. . vanish if they'd try. Now hope all ending, They were conveyed as p.risoners, and And Death befriending presented at Dungloe His last aid ending, Before a bench of magistrates, who let My cares are done. old Anna go. O'Donnell he was sentenced three No more a rover, months to Lifford Jail. Or hapless lover, A petition in his favour was fated not My griefs are over, to fail; . My glass runs low. The meek old piper soon came .back to Then for that reason, To see his friends once more, And for a season, To be welcomed by his family In Rosses Let us be merry ana Gweectore. Before we go! OLD COME-ALL-YE'S .. ______2;;;..1_

THE UNFORTUNATE LOVERS. A FACT. The following poem is a tra£lltlonal account of a melancholy catastropl1e which occurred on the road leading from Londonderry to Strabane, A.D., 1761; for a succinct account of which see Walker's Hlbernlan Magazine for that year. And Mora's eye could A11en move' She bade his wounded pride rebel, Alas! that eyes which beamed with love, Should urge the soul to deeds of hell. Byron. "Young man, it brings us some relief, Towards the west the sun inclines, When even strangers are condoling, And silent night again's returning; When sympathising with our grief; , Prehen's tall windows clearly shine, Yes, certainly, it Is consoling. . While all within is grief and mourning. "Beneath yon grove' let's take a 3eat, Hark to the dismal notes of woe Protected from the sun's invaslOll, Upon the zephyr's breath ascending; And list to me, whilst I relate The mournful accents, sadly slow, This melancholy, sad rrlation . With loud and wider shrieks are "Young Mary Ann, pride of Prehen, blending. And of the Foyle the fairest flower. Her beauty did attract young men What means yon melancholy sound? To her; it was a fatal power. That with the evening breeze is flying, What means yon concourse gathered "M'Naught-en, resolute and brave, round He'r wit and beauty bright admired; A pale and wounded lady dying? The soft impress she did receive, And with a mutual fl ame was fired. The lovely lustre of h er eyes, That beamed delight, is quickly fading, "Too ardent was thy love, young man, And death's pale spectre doth arise, You proved a too devoted lover; Her brilliant orbs with darkness Ill-fated day you crossed the Bann, shading'. And to the banks of Foyle came over. The bloom is in her cheek no more; "He made no scruples to profess Her livid lips are paler growing; Himself her friend on all occasions; Her silken robes distained with gore, But Love, disguised in friendship's dress, And from her side the red stream Lurked still in sil ent expectations. flowing. "Her fa ther, proud, morose, and stern, As frequently the youth returned, A man whose locks were grey with age, From various signs could well discern, And seemed with grief to be exhausted, That more than friendship's fire Approaching the venerable sage, burned. I him in gentle terms accosted. "From rumours and suspicions vague, "Sir, think me not Impertinent, And hints fro m those who oft had seen But what r see does much alarm me. them, O~ yon fair lady's aCCident, He thought some secret love intrigue I wish, kind sir, you would inform me. " Was surely carried on between them. 22 OLD COME-ALL-YE'S. "She must indulge him, then, thought he, " 'My venera ble friend,' said snB , For publicly lie never sought her; 'To that young man these lines deliver, Their meeting sO clandestinely- And well rewarded you shall be, This fact doth criminate my daughter. If back you will re,turn ever.'

"Thus moved by his paternal care, "LIke an ambassador of love, He sought her chambe,r, sat beside her, I' hasted to my destination, And with a cold, sarcastic air, Where, deep sequest ered in a g r J Y2, Did for her foolish passion chide her. He sat in silent meditation. "Her lovely face with blushes dyed, "He took the letter in surprise, Betrayed at once her strong affection ; And it with eagerness perused; Her looks, too, tacitly implied, Despair was pic.tured in his eyes; That love would take its own direc,tion, He' seemed astonished and confused. "And now he tries parental force, These two united hearts to sever, "Have you e'er seen the storm low ~ ~', Debars all further intercourse With aspect threa t'ning, ill presaging? From that day forward, and forever. Anon the rattling tempests pour, Wide o'er the plain with fury raging, "Both night and day his subtle spies The neighbourhood perambulated, Oollecting facts; but more of lies "0 .· on a calm, dark, threat'ning day, To him was still communicat.,ci. Observed the still blUe frowning ocean In sudden wrath dash forth the spray, "M'Naughtan spies could '10t dismay; With strong and viol ent commntion? Impelled by love to d ~ spe r ati::m, Disguised in mendicant's al'l'ay. "Thus he in sullen silence stood He oft elulied observ'ltion. I n deep and gloomy rumin a t i ~n; Then wildly bursting like a flood, "This heard her father, who straight­ away He filled the grove with lamentation. To Dublin was resolved to send her, Prepared his coach against next day, 'Oh! cursed hard fate,' he madly cries, 'Must I those tenfold ills endure? With some armed servants to attend Ah no, my life I'll sacrifice her. Or else to-morrow I'll re;cue her.' "Meanwhile her faithful lover, dear, In false security reposing, "WHh frantic steps he gained the hall, Still had no doubt, nor felt he fear By blooming evergreens surrounded; For the event, as still supposing Then for his servant loud did call , While through the ·dome his voice re­ "That he, when time would bring it sounded. round, From parents' cruelty would free her, " 'Oh ! haste,' he cries, 'prepare my steed, And till that time still could be found And thou, my worthy servant ever, An opportunity to see her. Prepare our arms with haste and speed: This is the time to act , or never. "A letter, writ with trembling hand, (Her heart throbbed wildly while she " 'Perhaps, ere this, my love is lost; penned it), Upon our haste our hope's dependin g; She sent; to let him understand The Derry mountains we'll have crossed, That her removal was intended. As Phoebus in the east's ascending.' OLD COME-ALL-YE'S. _ _ _ _ _ -,23

"Now mounted on his foaming steed, "'If guarded by a well-armed banl1. Round rugged hills and valleys wind­ At our attack, so unexpected, ing; With panic petrified they'll stand, Despair more fiercely urged his speed; When thus they'll find themselves at­ His trusty servant close behind him. tacked. " 'How will my dream be then fulfilled I "In sighing murmurs rushed the wind, I thought that near the Foyle's broad To roaring rivers swelled the foun­ waters, tains, By some mischance that I had killed To dark woodsfted the timorous hind, The haughty Squire's young, lovely And howling wolves forsook the moun­ daughter.' tMns. "'Avaunt, you dreams'-as Shakespeare "Deep, loud, and awful, rolled afar said- The frequent peals of distant thunder. You're but sleeping imagination. Scared at the elemental war, Oh! how some people are afraid The trembling steed stood still with Of phantoms of their own creation. wonder. "'Though ravens croaked around my head, ' "The vivid lightning's fiery gleam, And myoId dog howled melancholy, Arrayed the storm in all its terrors; To feel a superstittiOl1s dread, And high in air the wild birds scream; I still consider it a folly.' Yet nothing could appal the heroes. "'Such dark presages do not sl1ght,' "Where rolling Foyle its crystal flood, The servant said, with looks so pensive In stately mr.j esty is driving, 'From what I dreamed myself last night, Near to a place called Cloghcor Wood, Of some mischief I'm apprehensive. The man and master are arriving. "'I thought a lofty towering tree, "Now in the wood they disappear, Grew close beside yon habitation. Secure from pubHc observation; A thunderbolt I soon did see, The daring scheme is laid, and here Spread through its branches desolation Brough t to its fatal consummation. "In speechless grief, and stained With "Darkly waved the frowning wood, gore, For planning baneful projects suited, The vitaJeifusion of his daughter, And gloom-inspiring thickets stood In bending attitude stood o'er Where wild doves wailed, and screech­ HIs child, while tears ran down like owls hooted. water. "Thus stood her wretched father, while "The master thus the man addressed: Each bitter groan was most distressing; 'How shall my gratitude r eward you? Then kneeling dOwn beside his child, If we succeed in this contest, In faltering accents asked her blessing. As my bes t friend I'll still regard you. "To Heaven she raised her faded eyes; "'This is the way they will approach_ Th-ese scattered words we scarce coUld To kill the horses be you ready; gather; Meanwhile, I will assail the coach, 'You have my blsssing,' she replies, And carry oft' the lovely lady. 'But oh! forgive me, oh! my father I 24 OLD COME-ALL-YE'S. --~------~ " 'Alas! 'twas r that brought him here, As the hollow groan from the vaulted And thus exposed him to those harms, tomb But, father dear, be not severe,' Th' imagination fllls With wonder, She said, and sunk in death 's cold So M'Naughtan's voice thro' th' dungeon's arms. gloom Sounds like the grumbling, distant "From every breast bursts forth a sigh, thunder. As death its victim off did ca.rry, And the silent tear from every eye, Steals down their cheeks involuntary. "Oh! Heaven, my Mary Ann !" said he, "Is the lover thus turned assassin! "Her father murmured, 'Oh! my God!' Ah! no, my love, that could not be; In bitter, short ejaculations; 'Twas the effect of a furious passion. 'Under Thy afflicting rod, Almighty Father, grant me patience. "What malevolent imp of hell, Or all the fiends combined, rather, "'o.h! Mary Ann, once cheering name, In my frantic rage did me impel, How sounds it now when I'm forsaken? To raise' my h and against her father ? Or is this some delusive dream, From which, perh aps, I shall awaken? "I ask not life, I seek for death. "'All no! dreadful reality ! Since Mary Ann is gone before me; No more shall fond an ticipation So bear me hence, for here on earth Future h appiness to me T11e good and tender will abhor me. Portray in my imagination. "Angels, Ohristians, sages, say "'Oib! Mary Ann, pride of my soul, Might I ever be forgiven? 'Twere better I had not survived thee, For absolution need I pray, But that the wret ch's cursed ball Or intercession make with Heaven?" Olf my existence h ad deprived me.'

"Now see, they're moving off with haste, Thus wailed h e, while in irons bo und, Amidst the cries of lamentation."-­ His trusty servant lying by him. And here my oId narrator ceased When a commission was sent down His long and mournful narration. From DubJjn speedily to try him.

Now having taken a kind adieu 'Tis far too paintful to relate Of my informant, old and hoary. His trial, verdict, fatal sentencc, All alone I must pUl'sue And each particular to state. The sequel of my tragic story.

Here, where the crawling insects dwell. It is M'Naughtan, pinioned strong, And loathsome reptiles are abounding. His face exhibiting confusion, In sullen echoes through the cell, In solemn pomp is moved along The clanking Iron chains are sounding. Towards the place of execution. OLD COME-ALL-YE'S. 25 ~------~--~------~~ With steady eye h e viewed the crowd The rigid moralist may say, Around, behind him, and before him; Perhaps, that they their fate deserved; No shriek of lamentation loud, [n Folly's path they went astray, But silent awe and calm decorum. And far from duty both had swerved.

A shriek burst from the multitude, The lover, with mistaken views, Of mingled horror, fear, and wonder. Exclaims her father was too cruel; The hangman's axe with blood im­ The harsh, stern means that he did use, brued; Was to Love's fire adding fueL The head lies here, the body yonder.

My mournful muse now drops h er h ead, hope those lovers' tragic fate, Crowned with a wreath of weeping To parents hence will be a caution, willows, • To, by harsh language, ne'er frustrate And murmurs low, "M'Naughtan's dead! " Their children in a lawful passion. His death with horror sure would thrill us. I wish not to be understood AS freeing children from subjection. His servant, too, now to be brief, Such cautions oft are for their good, Is from the fa tal tree suspended; Wi th mUd and moderate correction. The bitter sobs and groans of grief, Proclaim the tragedy is ended. But let young people, everyone, At length my melancholy tale When subtle love-snares they are Is drawing near to a conclusion, caught in, Excuse my muse, if sh e did fail Think on the fate of Mary Ann, In her long mournful effusion. And bold, but resolute M'Naughtan.

BANTRY BAY.

"Lads and lassies all," said the piper, I was sitting all alone in the gloaming, 'Hands across and trip it while I play." It might have beea but yesterday, Till the tender sound of song and merry Yha t I saw the fishing sails all homing dancing Till the little herring fleet at anchor Stole softly over Bantry Bay. lay; Then the fisher girls with baSKets swinging As I'm sitting all alone in the gloaming Came running down the old stone way. The shadows of the past draw near, Evp.ry lassie to her 5ailor lad was Singing And I see the loving faces around me A welcome back to Bantry Bay. '!'hat used to glad the old brown pier; Some are gone upon their last loved homing, Some are left, but th ey are old and Then the piper with his sweet note tuning grey And all the lassies tlU'ned to hear, And they're waiting for the tide in the And it mingled with their soft voices gloaming crooning To take them on the great highway­ As the music floated down the wooden To that land of rest unending pler ~ All pcacefully frolll Bantry Bay. 26 OLD COME-ALL-YE'S. THE MAID OF AGHADOWEY. VAN DIEMEN'S LAND.

Oome all ye young men inclined to Come all ye lads of learning; come ramb­ ramble ling boys, beware! To some stJmnge c,ount!ry yo ur friends to And when you go a-llunting, have your see; dog, your gun, and snare. Gome pay attention to what I mention, The lofty hills you're facing will be at And soon you'll hear what has happened your command; me. None like them, I am thinking, on far r left the' parish called Aghadowey, which Van Diemen's Land. causes me here in grief to stand

And ponder deeply on the da ys r sported There were one, Brown, from Dublin down by the banks of the bonny Bann. town, Pat Martin, and poor Jones; I of times sported, but seldom courted, till They were three clever fellows, and very at length a fair one I chanced to spy; well 'tis known, She being a stranger, and I a ranger, I One night while rambling late for game deemed no danger to winl, my eye. the keeper caught tlle band, And for seven years transported tllem 'l'hen I stepped up to her, not to pursue unto Van Diemen's Land. her, but my heart to cure of a sudden ache, But I knew not how to congratulate her­ I feared she'd think I was a rake; The' place we had to land upon, it was a But, taking courage: "I hear your parents foreign shore, are dead against me. 011, pray, don't The negroes gathered round us, above let their counsel stand; fl ve hundred score. They would insist tlla t you quite deny me The negroes gathered round us, and sold and wed some young man possessed us out of hand, They yoked us up like horses, to plough of land." Van Diemen's Land.

"But was 1 as rich as olden Dives, or yet a monarch to wear a. crown, The cot we had to live in was built with My dear it .would be my daily study to sod and clay, place upon you fame and renown. With rotten straw to lie upon, pray, slum­ But I'll away to yon li.igh 1l101mtains ber, if you may. do,wn by the banl,s of tlle bright With rotten straw to lie upon, pray slum­ Bann side, ber, if you can, And I'll look back unto Mourne's wa.Lel'; Amid the Turks and tyrants tllat's in 'tls there the clear streams do gently Van Diem-en's Land. glide.

"My heart rejoices to see my country; its rugged mOUlltains so wilct to view, Last night whilst I lay sleeping, I dreamt And was I ke eper of India's treasure, I'd a pleasant dream, bestow it all, love, for sake of you." I dr eamt I was in Ireland, beside a purl­ Now. to end this ditty, which Is not witty, ing stream, it is a pity I must sigh wre, . A pretty girl smiling, sat just at my right But at our next meeting be your's gay h and; greeting, and while glad hearts' beat­ When I awoke, my heart it broke, all in Ing, let's part no more. Van Diemen's Land. OLD COME-ALL-YE'S. 27

DAN O'CONNELL AND TIlE COCKNEYS.

Ye boys oJ the Shamrock give ear to my The biter being bit, you may guess his ditty, vexation, I'm sure you will say 'tis a comical one; To the rest of his friends he began to To miss such a joke would be really a complain. pity, When he thought on the joke and how And our Irish boys are the fenows for muc'h it had cost him, fun. He swore he would ne'er "joke a lawyer" again. Those lines I intend to incline to no party, Would you h ear more of the "smartness" To favour no section in Church or in of Daniel? State, If your patience holds out, boys, the So just be so good as to give me attention t ale I will tell And some laughable tricks you will Qif two Irish tinkers who, visiting London, h ear me relate. Fell out with the landlord of a City Hotel. When Daniel OIGonnell once tr avelled to Then straight to Qi'Connell repaired the London, bold tinkers, He journeyed across as the member for An d to him they told how they got in C1ar~ ; a mess, The C'ockneys all eagerly crowded around How the landlord, unwisely, out of doors him, put them, And the cheers of the Irishmen n :nded They hoped that his Honour would the air. find them redress.

Being anxious to see the grea t ma i~ of Two suits of black clothes Dan procured the people, for the tinkers, The "John Bulls" in th ousands all fast And told them . their budgets they gathered roun d, should lay aside. Some started to hiss, and others to mock With gloves of green chamois their black him, hands to cover, But the Irish shillelag'hs came "crack" And tools in their trunk that were both on their crown. large and wide. One day through the streets a5 Lra vc 'Twas early next morning the waiter con­ Dan he was walking, veyed A party of C'ockneys to view him thEY Their tools and th eir budgets unto the stood, same inn, In order to humbug the "mo!1arch of The landlord he smiled, and he welcomed Ireland," them hearty, One pulled out a bank-note and said : And spared neither pudding, spice, "Sir, is that good?" porter nor gin. ro answer the question brave Dan wasn't In his grand apartment they took up lazy- their lodgings, The note to his fob he con veyed in a Provisions being plenty, they locked trice. themselves in, When asked to return it, he says to the And after a day they unpacked their fellow : budgets, "WhY, sir, I'm a counsellor- pay for And "hammer and tongs" at WOl'k they advice." begin. 28 In a moment the landlord he summoned 'Twas thus four days they kept up their the waiter, racket, Who, frightened, nigh naked, clean The landlord offered them on the first jumped out of bed, day Then rapped at the door of these two T'en pounds, but was glad t o bestow Irish tinkers, them One Hundred But loud as he rapped, louder noise Before that he got these bold tinkers they both made. away. The landlady scolded and got in a pas­ When Daniel D'C'onnell he first went to Sion, London The tinkers they laughed while they Th.e rights of old Elrin to ably main­ hammered away, tain, Well knowing that the landlord could The C'ockneys all sought to make fools ne'er dispossess them of the Irish, AI; long as their bill they continued to But they never played tricks· on pay. O'C'onnell again.

O'DONNELL'S FAREWELL TO THE ROSSES.

Fare,well to my aged parents, to my Farewell to lovely Arranmore, and Rut­ friends and comrad,es all. land banks so green, I'm bidding you a long adieu, I'm leaving Where many a pleasant summer's eve my Donegal, friends and I had been. Its hdlls and rugged valleys, its lakes and 1nni8coo and Eighter islets-with Tory streams so rare, far away, Its plains and yelping rivers and its bua­ And Innisfree so dea,r to me and charm­ hails all so fair. ing Maghery Bay,

The tende'l' is in waiting to take me to Whe'l'e fish do sport in plenty and anglers Moville there h ave skill To meet the ship Columbia my heart with To bait the hook with diligence, and lab­ grief does fill. our with a wiu. Rents they are too heavy, taxes hoard to The sun will rise and set again, the tides sustain, oH ebb and fiow, So leaving my own Donega1 I'm forced to Before I gree't sweet Burtonport and the cross the main. village of Dungloe,

To seek out that labour that at home I was denied, My name it .i s OIDonnell, a descendant of To breathe the airs of freedom, in Colum­ Hugh H,oe, bia t o reside, Famed he was in history-a terror to the Oppressed by foreign laws, I held them foe. in disdain, May his spi.:it ever animate our young And now I leave loved Ireland and sail men one and all, the lonely main. Who live along the Rosses' 3hores. ano over Donegal. OLD COME-ALL-YE'S. 29

WHERE I S THE FLAG OF ENGLAND? TO TIlE RIVER FOYLE. 'Twas summer, and o'er tre€s and flowers And th e winds of the world make answer­ The wind its sweetest breath was North, south, and east and west­ "Where'er there's wealth to covet blOwing, Or lands to be possessed, The dew-like rain in silve,ry &howers Where'er are feeble races Dropped in the river onward flowing. To cozen. coerce, or snare, And mingling with tha. rippling flood Ye shall find the vaunted ensign The song-bird's notes made music For the English flag is there ! charming, While to the,ir nests in "Prehen Wood" "It waves o'er the blazing hovels The rooks in seeming haste were Wh ence African victims fly swarming. To be shot by explosive bullets Or to wretch edly starve and die. And wh er e the beachcomber h arries s.weet "Foylehill's" lovely grove, it threw The isles of the Southern Sea. At th e peak of his h ellish vessel Its Sihadows o'er the glancing river; The English flag flies free. Within my heart remains that view, And still will linger there for ever, 'Twas like some scene in fairyland- "The Maori often h as cursed it r thought, as on the bank reclining, With his bitter est dying breath. No spot on earth was half so grand E>",

"WJ>.ee i< the flag of England? Oh! Foyle, I long to see thy waves Seek the lands where the natives rot; Where decay and assured extinction Roll onward to the Atlantic Ocean ; Must soon be the people's lot. And till I'm laid within my grave Go. search for the once glad islands To thee I'll turn with fond devotion. \V b(·!"c death and disease are rife, Like some sweet dream, I eaU to mind And the gTced of a callous commerce The days Wihen I was young a:1d merry NolV battens on human life. In all the world I ne 'er could find A lovelier spot than Londonderry.

"Wh ere is the fl ag nf En ~ land? Go. sail where ri <: h galleons com e With shoddy and loaded cottons The foregoing was written a generat.ion And Beer and Bi bles and Rum! ago by Mr. Daniel Bradley, a native of 3 0 where brute force h as triumpher: Derry, who took up his residence at An­ And hypocr;sv makes its lair, And yonr f!U €8UO n will find its answer , derston, Glasgow. He is the aut}lor of a For t.h f' En gli~ h flag is there." number of poems of merit. 30 OLD COME-ALL-YE'S.

THE OLD RAMELTON FLAX MARKET.

H. G. Gallagher wrUes:- I enclose a copy of an old "Come-AU-Ye " which I heard an octogenarian singing recently. It appears that it was composed by some local rhymster over fifty years ago, when a tl. ax market was first estab li Sh~? in Ramelton. It was stated that people in the Letterkenny district "boyco·tted thlS market, and this fact gave the poet room for rhyme. Come all ye honest fanners, I won't de­ Ramelton and its neighbourhood your tain you long, market did compose, And give an ear to what I say, and be it And not from any other place as every right or wrong, person knows; Concerning the flax market of brave I say it was that neighbourhood! t·he Ramelton town, truth you can't deny, A place of truth and honesty, of fame Who crowded up with loads of flax your and high renown. market to supply.

On the first day of November it was At last Ramelton it did .say: What fool establish ed there, am I to roam And it has been con.ducted since with To Letterkenny marke t when I should order and due care; be at home. A committee, as you may see, composed Our flax it is both long and good, and of members ten, when that it is dl'essed, To regulate this market by those right­ We'll keep the market to ourselves, fo r hearted men. we deserve it best.

Each market-day, without delay, the And now you can come stepping down crane they do attend, tile road, It is not rough, To see that justice be observed and for A:lcl bring your flax along wit-h you, we to superintend; loant it long enough; Besides, our brave town magistrate does Rise early and come stepping down, I often cast his eye mean from Letterkenny, Out of his office window the market o'er And we'll give justice in this town-wh at to spy. you ne'er gave to any.

To see it be conducted well, close by his Farewell to Letterkenny, and their ill­ office door, gotten gain, Where equal justice h e does give alike to For many an honest farmer they robbed rich and poor. at their crane. Come! Letterkenny, answer this: Did The poor man and the stranger right Ramelton interfere heavy they did t ax, When you got your weekly market or And always Wronged them, less or more, yet your stated fair? in the weighing of their fl ax.

And now why should you envy, or cast at Farewell unto your town police, indeed them a frown, they were net "blate·." For get,ting a flax market un to their To take a poor man by the neck before honest town; a magistrate; Besides, it's there it should h ave been And if your cart did want a name, his this many a day and year, Worship did not fail And not in Letterkenny, as I shall let you To impose on you a heavy fine or sen- hear. 1Jence you to jail. ______O_ L_D__ CO__ ME_ -=AL=L=-~Y~E='S=. ______3_ l

TO TIlE STATUE OF GOVERNOR WALKER.

Come down out of that, Misther Walker! That's true! you must knOW we're for ftghtin ' There's work to be done by an' by, That blessed ould battle' once .more. An' this is no time to stan' glowerin' For they say it was some way mlsman­ Between th e Bogside an' the sky. agp-d, The Country's sore thrubble increases, The time that they fOU gh t it afore, But now when we ftg'illt it-naboclish! Deep danger indeed is h er lot, :c think we'll know jist what to do, And she needs the' bould help of a hayl'o In the bright blissed wathers we'll bury, That once' bid a king "Go to pot!" The Popish and Infidel crew!

Come down out of that, Misthel' Walker! An' you must be there when it's done, Desthructlon hangs over the isle. sir, Come down! an' lave DeITY policemen, An' read sich a prayer o'er the dead, To watch in your place for a while. That never to all gennyrations. You're needed to guide the recruitin', Shall Popery lift up her head. So down out of that! as I bid you! To dhrill all the goomies tha t join, There's work to be done by an' by, An' polish them off into sogers , Lave swaUows, and sparrows, an' pigeons Before we march up to th e Boyne. Jl,whUe to look afther the' sky.

Come down for Meg's* longin' to see you She wants to get fixed for the flID , For if there's a spree she'll be in it, My word for't, as sure as a gun.

(The author of the foregoing lines, Robert A. Wilson, better known as "Barney Maglone," was born in Dun fanaghy, of Presbyterian parentage, about 1820. He wrote hundreds of songs and poems. Several are deficient m technique and occasionally crude in ex pression, but the majoriLy possess genu­ ine poetical quality, and are often lit up with a humour which was peculiarly his own. The stanzas relating to Governor Walker's Statue wer·J written 46 years ago. "Barney Maglone" died in 1875,)

* "Roaring Meg," the gun on the Walls of Derry. 32 OLD COME-ALL-YE'S.

THE BALLAD OF ' SHANE CROSSAGlI..

Shane Crossagh's exploits have been recorded in more than one ballad, and my readers may lilee to h ave in a permanent form the followin g, which has a great swing with it and tells a very vivid story.

Up the heathery mountain , down the Looked up the hound and gave a bound, rushy glen, says Crossagh, "Yes, I know! " Squire Staples has gone hunting Shane And with a shout they both rushed out, Crossagh and his men ; and they h ave leaped the Roe. With forty mounted yeomen to follow in And they have leaped the Roe, boys, and his train, they have leaped the Roe; He swears he'll give the gallows work ere In Ballynascreen will yet be seen the he r eturns again. man who leaped the Roe.

Shane Crossagh was a farmer who lived "A good leap," cried the Squire, who saw in Ballynascreen, the game was done; But now he is an outlaw for the wearing "Not great," replied the outlaw, for such of the green- a length of run: For wearing of the green, boys, for wear­ But mark me, Squire Staples, when we ing of the green , shall meet again, Shane Crossagh is an outlaw to-day in You 'll wish the river Roe between Shane Ballynascreen. CroSsag!1 and your men."

SayS Torrens, the informer. "We have The Squire and his yeomen are passing him now, I know; towards Glenshane, The bloodhounds are upon him, he can­ Ri ght weary and dejected, their chase not pass the Roe; was all in vain- The river Roe is deep, boys , its channel Their chase was all in vain, boys, their twelve yards wide, chase was all in vain. The banks are high and steep, boys, o'er­ But faith ! I ween they'll meet t he green, hanging at each side. before they pass Glenshane. "The man must sure be weary who hunt­ Old Feeney bridge is broken, but on it.., ed th us has been, arch is seen, Two summer days and fasting since he To them a fearful token-a branch of left Ballynascreen; holly green; Since he left Ballynascreen, boys, since Next instant. from a grey-rock a whist­ he left Ballynascreen; ling bullet sped, And we'll hang him now full surely since And Torrens, t he informer, fell from his he left Ballynascreen." charger dead. Shane Crossagh had a wolf-hound that Then up the heathery mountain, and never parted him, down the rushy glen, And when the bloodhounds neared him, Is heard the cry of vengeance, the shout he tore them limb from limb. of armed men, "My brave friend." cried the outlaw. and The shouts of armed men, boys; his tears began to flow, The shouts of armed men, "0, gallant Swift, we still are free, if we And one is seen all dressed in green, 'tiS could leap the Roe'." Crossagh bacle again. ___ ._ _.______O_ L_D_ C_O_M_ E_-A_L_L_-_Y__E _ 'S_-______...:: 3:.0:3_

"Mercy," cried Squire Staples, "Shane They're bound, and Squire Staples now Crossagh, let me live, finds that in the glen And fo r the boon a thousand pounds in The outlaw's force consisted of seven yellow gold I'll give." gallant men- "Then send your arms here, sir, and Of seven gallant men , boys, of seven singly come to me: gallant men; For I must bind your yeomen all, each Then in despair he tore his hair and man unto a tree." wept for very shame.

WIDOW MACHREE.

Widow Machree, now the summer is come, And how do you know, with the comforts Och hone! Widow Machree, I've towld, When everything smiles should a beauty Och hone! Widow Machree, But your keeping some poor fellow out in look gloom? the cowld? Och hone! Widow Machree, Och hone! Widow Machree, See the birds go in pairs, and the rabbits With such sins on your head, sure your and hares- peace would be fled, Why even the bears now in couples agree; Co uld you sleep in your bed without And the mute little fi sh, thinl{ing to see Some ghost or some spirite Though they can't spake they wish·­ That would wake you at night Och hone! Widow Machree, Orying Och hone! Widow Machree.

T-hen take my advice, daring Widow Widow Machree, and when the winter Machree, comes in, Och hone! Widow Machree, Och hone! Widow Machree, And, with my advice, faith, I'd wish you'd To be poking the fire all alone is a sin, take me, Och hone! Widow Machree, O<::h hone! Widow Machree, Sure the shovel and ton gs to each other You'd have me to desire, then to stir up belongs the fire; While the kettle sings son gs of family And sure Hope is no liar in whisp'ring to glee! me Yet alone with your CUll That the ghosts would depart Like a hermit you sup When you'd have me near your heart Och hone! Widow Machree, Och hone! Widow Machree,

The above is given by request, and it furnishes a good illustration of the h ar­ ,;10rious swing and bubbling gaiety sel dam absent from the verses of the well­ known author, Samuel Lover, who was born in Dublin over a century ago. 34 OLD COME-ALL-YE'S.

THE OLD IRISH SONG. MICHAEL TOLAND, THE TAILOR. 0 , sing me a song that my heart loved the dearest- ' In Lettermacaward, convenient to the The song that in Erin I heard long ago sea, As I roamed in wild youth by the clear There lived an honest tailor who was al­ sunny wil d wood ways blithe and free. By the banks where the Mourne and He lal) 2ur",ct j'cr his n eighbours, ~ om e ­ Foyle waters flow. times he went afar, For all around my heart there is some­ thing entwining, And his genial f a. ce was welc J l'r..~ as 1)(~8 , n1 And I love the dear bards which to Erin r. t eVeTIi.L g star. belong. For sure there is something more sweet A coat he'd "cut and fi nish"; a vest and and divine in trousers, too, The music that thrills through an old Irish song. The gaiters he could fashion quite lev el with the shoe; Most trim he was and agile, the deer he might defy, Come near to me, Nora, your spinning give over, To th e stag with antlered horns he could This poor heart will break sure with bid -a sweet good-bye. sorrow and toil. And sing me the song you first sang to At merry-making muster he was fore­ your lover most in the town, As we wandered at eve on the banks of the Foyle. As a decent judge of "liquor" he had a high renown. It wlll gladden my heart, and I'll think I'm roaming Though full of mirth and frolic, he lived The pleasant green valleys of Erin an humble life, among, And daily toiled in innocence-a foe to Beside with my friends in the summer war and strife. time gloaming, Where I flrst heard the notes of your old A good and pleasant neighbour, with Irish song. smiles for olel and young, Was this simple, honest tailor, who good 0 , sing me the couleen when oft in my humour round him flung. childhood Providence provided him with health and My fond mother sang its sweet mea­ happy years, sures to me, And family affection his daily labour. As I roamed a wild youth through the cheers. clear sunny wilderness, Or in childhood's fond raptuze I clung Then came the final summons! God to her knee. marked him for His own, 0 . sing it again. I could listen for ever, The news of his last illness ca used many And. sit here in silence the winter's to bemoan. night long, Grief for Michael Toland o'erspread Let­ And my heart would fly back to that dear shining river termacaward- May his grave be ever green, and Heaven By the banks where the Mourne or Foyle waters flow. be his reward! -C. O'Boyle. OLD COME-ALL-YE'S. 35

"THERE'S LUCK IN ODD NUMBERS."

Young Rory O'More courted Kathleen "Now, Rory, I'll cry if you don't let me ban," go; He was bold as a hawk-and she soft as Sure I dhrame every night that I'm hat­ the dawn; ing you so." He wished in his heart pretty Kathleen "Oeh," says Rory, "that same I'm de­ to please, lighted to heal', And he thought the best way to do th at For dhrames always go by contraries, my was to tease; dear; "Now, Rory, be aisy," sweet KathleeIj So, jewel, keep dhramin' that same till would cry- you die, Reproof on her lip, but a smile in her And bright mornin' will give dirty night eye; the black lie ; "With you tricks, I don't know, in troth, And 'tis plased that I am, and why not, what I'm about; to be sure? Faith you've teased me till I've put on Since 'tis all for good lUCk," says bold my cloak inside out"; Rory O'More. "O'ch, jewel ," says Rory, "that same is "Arrah, Kathleen, my darlint, you've the way teased me enough, You've thrated my heart for this many And I've thrashed for your sake Dinny a day, Grimes and James Duft'. And 'tis plased that I am, and why not, And I've made myself drinkin' your to be sure? h ealth, quite a beast, For 'tis all for good luok," says bold Rory So I think, after that, I may talk to th e OIMore. priest."

"I ndeed, then," says Kathleen, "don't Then Rory, the rogue, stole his arm think of the like, round her n eck, For I half gave a promise to soothering So soft and so white, without freckle or Mike; speck, The ground that I walk on, h e loves, I'll And h e looked in her eyes that were be bound," beaming with light, "FaIth," says Rory, "I'd ruther love you And he kissed her sweet lips- don't you than the ground." think he was right?

"Now, Rory, leave oft', sir; you'll hug me no more; That's eight times to-day that you've kissed me before." "Then here goes ~. noth e r," says he, "to make sure, For there's I uck in odd numbers," says Rory O'More.

"Fair. 36 OLD COME-ALL-YE'S. NEVER DESPISE AN OLD FRIEND. PAT WALSH IS BEST OF AL.L. One morning for my recrea-tion Away down in a dreary place convenient I happelled to carelessly stray to the sea By the walls of a low, Mcient abbey, There dwelt a lovely maiden as fair as It was in the sweet month of May. fair could be- Being fatigued by the beams of aurora, She was charming, tall, and handsome, To slumber I laid down my head, few girls could her excel; Where the murphies were my mantle Admired by young and old, in Gweedol'e and cover, she did dwell. The shamrock and daisies my bed. In early years she was tutored by parents goo d and kind But as I awoke from my slumber In the truths of her religion, and to learn­ A hermit to ll;Je did appeal', ing much inclined. His grey hairs hung down without To the village school she daily trudged number, with meek but joyous smile; He look'd kind as he bid me not fear. NOl'ah Harkin was the sweetest lass you'd He told me to rise up and travel, meet in fi fty mile. And then he said, "Brothel' depend­ Arise, let us both walk together, and The young men all around there her Never despise an old friend." movements did admire, Her gentle, mild demeanour, as she sat I arose with a strange exaltation, by winter fire All along with him anxious to go, Recounting over her experiences 'mid th'e For the robes that h e wore ga-ve me hills of Donegal, reason But she always ended with the words: To believe that he wasn't a foe. "Pat Walsh is best of all." Being doubtful, I made free to ask him, still hoping it would not offend, His name, his fame, thus scattered would To see if we could prove we were fill up many a page; brothers, His qualities as a wooer-his conduct Or what he meant by "An old shrewd and sage. To her neighbours she reported him as friend." stalwart, brave and tall, And Norah always ended with: "Pat He says: "Our Cause it is legal, Walsh is best of all." Well jointed by the Powers above, St. Patrick has laid the foundation, If dying, she'd bequeath him her lands to join us in brotherly love." and gold galore, So I, a true knight of his banner, For so she told her many friends a way His cause I will always defend, down in Gweedore. If you read in the annals of Scripture, And if Pat Walsh would symptoms show You'll never despise an old friend. of sickness or decay, She'd urge upon the clergy fol' him to Just as I ended these few lines, kindly pray His harp over his shoulders he threw, So that his soul to Heaven might go, We shook hands and brouh erly parted, where sorrows are no more, So kind as he bade me adieu. Where joy would reign eternal for her In a chariot of ligh t he ascended, loving Pat asthor! With angels on him to attend, But, like many another woman, Norah An d the last word he spoke as we changed her min d and way, parted She sold her land by auction, and sailed Was "Never despise ~ n old friend." for America. -c. O'Boyle. OLD COME-ALL-Y~_'S_. ____ _ 37

"THE WATERLOO PRIEST." A Ballad from Buncrana.

The priest referred to beJo,w was one of thl'ee' bl'others, Fathers William, Gharles, and Denis O'Donnel1, whose re mains are interred in Cockhill's historic burying-ground, Buncrana. Father Willi:1m OIDonnel1 entered Maynooth in 1802. After completing his studies brilliantly he adopted the military profes- sion. I{e was appointed Ensign in "7th Ve,teran Battalion," and afterwards Lieu­ tenant in the lOth Foot. He distinguished himself in the Peninsular Wars, and on the death of his brotlhers he embraced Holy O~' der s, and was subsequently ap­ pointed P.P. of Clonmany. He died on the lOth February, 1856, deeply regretted by the Catholic peasantry of Inishowen, who, by his demise, lost a fearless de­ fender during the' iniquitous days of pel' secution and yeomanry laws.

The remains of these brave and holy .11en lie within a few yards of those of the renowned B'ishop Dr. Maginn and his venerable mother, Mary Maginn, who died at the pa.triarchal age of one hund red years on the 11 th March, 1853. The modest tombstones of these learned men, standing amidst their lonely surround­ ings, preaoh, in indelible language, that fast disappearing virtue, Humility-that is now almost unknown, or rabher forgot ten, amidst tine pride and pomp of present-day life.

The ballad was novated from a vener able citizen, who assured ~he writer it bears an interesting link with the resi dence' now known as "Woodlands" at Fahan .-A. M. O'D.

As I roved out one morning all in the Here's a health to the three O'Donnells, month of June, all honour to their name. The sun it shone on Swllly's banll:s, all They're a credit to their countl'Y, by thing& were in full bloom; breeding, birth, and fame; I lay me down to muse awhile, come listen to my theme, In spite of all his enemies, on the Altar And musing deep I fell asleep and soon he did stand, began to dream. He was once a bold Lieutenant-he's now I dreamt I saw a lofty ship come sailing our clergyman! up the main, With four and twenty mermaids to guide her on the stream. Three of these noble cle'rgymen came These maids all standin,g .on her bows, fmm the Church of Rome, she' soon alarmed me; And the Lord has called two of them unto "Arise, arise, you troubled minds, for rus heavenly home; Erin's sons ar'E~ free." He left us Father William, who fought Since we've heard of Liberty, we 'll let the at Waterloo; truth be known. Have you been at the meeting that was He fought t~e French and Spaniards, held in Irmishowen? and caused them for to rue; Long, long, we have been bound, but now He fought them with his army till no we have got free, longer they could stand, Before that we be chained again we'll He was once a bold Lieutenant-he's now fight for Uberty. our elergyman! 38 OLD COME-ALt- ~l1: ' S.

THE STRABANE FLEET.

Come all ye dry-land sailors Next day we ran short of buttermilk, And listen to my song; It was all the captain's fault, It has only forty verses, So the crew was laid up with the scurvy, So it won't detain you long. Fo·r the herrings were terrible salt, It's all about the history DuI' coloured cook said the meat was Of this here British Tar, done, Who sailed as man before the mast There wasn't a bap on the shelf; Aboard the CalaCanal, While hugging the shore near Sandy Being under close-reefed top sails, Brown's, For the glass foretold a squall. A very dangerous par t, It was nor'-east of the Shipyard We ran bow on to a bank of mud, We were beating in the surf That wasn't marked down on the On our way to the Gal"rigans Harbour chart. With cargo of good black turf. Then to keep the vessel from sinking, And save each precious life, The Oalabar was a clipper flat, We heaved the cargo overboard, Oopper-fastened fore and aft; Including the captain's wife. Her rudder stuck out far behind, Her wheel was a great big shaft. Then all became confusion, With half a gale to swell each sail, While the stormy winds did blo·w. She'd make two knots an hour, Our bo'son slipped on an orange peel Being the smartest craft on the whole And fell in the hold below. canal, "A pirate ship," the captain cried, Though only one-horse power. And on us she doe·s gain, When next I go to Strabane, my boys, By jove, I'll go by train!" Our captain was ' a strapping youth, He stood a.bout four fe et two. We got our arms all ready His eyes were black, his nose was red, To meet the coming foe, His cheeks a Prussian blue. Our grappling irons, boarding pike, He wore a leather-medal And Armstrong's guns also, Th'at he won at the China war, "Turn on full speed," the captain cried, And his wife was pilot and pa.ssenger "For we are sorely pressed, " . cook But the engineer replied from the Banks Aboard of the Oalabar. "The horse is doing his best." Dh! thick and fast the heroes fell, We started with a favouring gale, In streams the blood was spilt. The weather being sublime, Great numbers fell before they were But just right under Derry Bridge, touched, Where you cannot pass two at a time, To make sure they wouldn't be kiLt. We were struck mid-ships by a skow At last when the enemy struck her flag, That gave us a serious check, Her crew being laid on their backs, For it stove in the larboard paddle-box, We found she was another skow And shattered the hurricane deck. With a cargo of cobblers' wax. ott) COME-Att-Y~ ' S . 39

ROISIN DUBH. From the Blarney Stone to Inishowen (Author's Revise-By Request.) None can compare at all, Wid the tried and true, my Roisin Dubh, Arrah boys-ochonei-I'm sad an' lone, My girl from Donegal. An' my eyes wid big tears fill; -John Gerald Roddy. I'm bound to-day for Boston Bay Deny, December, 1915. In a steamship from Moville; There's no relief, I'm blind wid grief. An' my pride has got a fall, THE STAR OF DONEGAL. For I'm leavin' darlin' Roisin Dubh, My girl from D{)negal. One evening fair, to take the air, alone I chanced to stray Och·, she has eyes like May-morn skies, Down by a lucid silvery stream that ran An' midnight in her h air, along my way, A swan-white breast--love's cosy nest­ I spied two lovers talking" seated near a An' a face that's 'ever fair; ruined wall, Where the heather grows and blooms the And the young one's name w,as Mary, or rose- the Star of Donegal. The rarest rose of all- In her beauty grew my Raisin Dubh, 'l'he young man said "My charming My girl from Donegal. maid, at home I ca·nnot stay, To C'alifornian gold-fields I'm bound to But who can tell the thoughts that dwell cross the say, In a mind wid care oppressed? To accumulate a fortune, to build a splen­ Or who can know the weight of woe did hall, That's buried in my breast? To elevate to rank and state the Star of I sigh an' moan- I'm weary-grown­ Donegal. An' the day-dawn's like a pall, For I'm leavin' darlin Raisin O'ubh, She raised her lily hands and said "This My girl from D{)negal. castle in its day With all its plains and fair domains from Troth I'd be glad-an Irish lad­ Lifford to the say To slave in the ould soil Belonged to my ancestors, with many a Wid a pick or spade, tho' poorly paid, splendid hali, From the Shannon to the Foyle; And if my father h ad his rights, he's But I've travelled here and travelled lord of Donegal." there, My luck's gone to the wall, The young man said: "My charming maid, the time is drawing near An' I'm leavin' darlin' Roisin Dubh, When the Irish will return after their My girl from Donegal. long career Bu t when "out West" I'll work my best To this lovely land, by God's command, Till Fortune's web is spun. the fairest of them all, An' my eye is bright, my step is light , And Heaven will see old Ireland free, An' I have "the dollars" won ; bright Star of Donegal." Then when I've trod my n ative sod, She raised h er hands and said "God Once more, wid "cash at call," grant that 1 may see S'hure I'll marry darlin' Raisin Dubh, st. Patrick's lovely Isle of Saints great, My girl from Donegal. glorious and free; For she h as eyes llke May-morn skies, If that were so, there's none would go An' midnight in her h air, to New York or Montreal, A swan-white breast--love's cosy nest-­ But cultivate and decorate the lands of An' a face that's ever fair; Donegal." 40 OLD COME-ALL-YE'S. SUNNY TYRONE. (A Ballad by Hugh Quinn.) The Yankees may sing of the Wild Rocky There in old Camus churchyard my Mountains, fathers lie sleeping The Falls of Niagara so lovely and By the side of that abbey so sacred and grand, deal'; The wide-spreading lakes and the bright O'er their cold silent graves the green shining fountains shamrock is creeping, Adorning Columbia's free happy land. And the Mourne, flowing by, seems But I'll sing of dear Erin's sweet rivers this place to revere- and wild woods, Flows on by the Sion, where industry For beauty belongs to the land whence smiling I roam, Makes the low humming mill stir with And my h eart ever turns to the home of musical drone, my childhood, In which hundreds of hands are con­ On the sweet banks of Mourne, in tentedly toiling sunny Tyrone. On the sweet banks of Mourne, in sunny Tyrone.

Oh! what beauty is that of my deal' Flow on to the Finn while I sing of youl native county, glory, From Omagh on down to S,trabane rich Where Rorey O'Hannalan long rallied and gay; his clan; Rising up from the Mourne in Nature's supremacy, And where dark Knockavoe, facing Crohan so h oary, The green hills and mountains their Seems like sentinels watching o'er glories display; peaceful Strabane. From the Struel down along to the Oh ! beauteous peaks of such wild hill ' Foyle's stilly waters, and mountains. Where the Mourne mingles softly its Run from dark Knockavoe unto distant sweet thrilling moan, Glenrone, There dwelleth the brave sons and the fairest of daug.h'ters, And the town of Plumbridge is washed by swift fountains The pride' of old Elrin and sunny That roll from those hillsides in sunny Tyrone. Tyrone.

Oft I roved by th e Mourne when the Oh! my dear native county, far from you bright sun was shining I wander, To admire these beauties which fond But even your beauties seem sweeter Nature gave, to me. 0 1' sat down to rest when the day was Though to some foreign lands in their declining newness seem grander, 'Neath the oak and the h azel by the In long dreams of youth sure my heart old giant's grave. is with thee, There the green woods of Liskey and If I could sway my pen like a bard of Moulvln are waving, great talent, Fanned by the sweet breeze from the I'd write still in praise of the beauties river that's blown; you own: There angels might rest with the dove Of your daughters so fair and your sons and the raven all valiant, On the sweet banks of Mourne, in On the sweet banks of Mourne, in sunny Tyrone. sunny Tyrone. OLD COME-ALL-YE'S. 41

THE OLD ORANGE "'LUTE.

In the County TYrone, near the town of At the Chapel on Sundays, to atone for Dungannon, past deeds, Where many a ,·uci.ion myself had a Bob said "Pate,rs" and "Aves" and h and in, coun ted his iJ eads; Bob Williamson lived there, a weaver to Till one day at last, by th e Priest's own trade, desire, And all of us thought him a stout Orange He took the Old Flue for to play in the blade. Choir. On the Twelfth of July as it yearly did He took the Old Flute for to play in the come, Mass, Dob tooted the Flute to the sound of the But the instrument shivered and sighed, Drum; Oh, lUas! You may talk of your Harp, your Piano, In the celebrution was heard a greB,t or Lut.e, noise, Eu t there's nothing can sound 1iI,e the When the Old Flute started playing the old Orange Flute. Protestant Boys. But this treacherous scoundrel he took us all in, And all he could whistle, or finger, or He married a Papist called Bridget blow, M'Ginn, To sound Papist music he found it no go; Turned Papist himself, forsook the o~d "Kick the Pope," "The Boyne W'ater," cause, such like it would sound, Tha t ~a ve us our freedom, religion, and But one Papist £queak in it couldn't be laws. found. Now the boys in the Townland made Bob got all excited, and in a terrible some talk upon it. splutter. An d Bob h ad to fly to the Pt ovince of He flung the Old Flute in the blessed Connaught, Holy Water, He fled with his wife and his fixings to Thinking the water its noises would boot. drovl'l1. Among other things taking the Old But the tune only cllanged into "CfGp pies Orange Flut.e. Lie IX.wn,"

At a council of priests that was held the next day, They decided to banish the Old Flute away, As they couldn't knocl, heresy out of its h ead, They bought Bob a new one to play in its stead. Now the OJd Flute was doomed, and its fate was pathetic . . It was tied to a stal,e, and burnt as heretic, ':Mid the roars of the flames there was heard a great noise, 'Tw"s the Oid Flute still whistling the Protestant Boys. 42 OLD COME-ALL-YE'S.

JOHNNY', I HARDLY KNEW YE.

While going the wad to sweet Athy, It grieved my heart to see you sail, Hurroo! Hurroo! Hurroo! Hurroo! While going the r·oad to sweet Athy, It grieved my heart to see you sail, Hurroo! Hurroo! Hurroo! Hurroo! While going the road to sweet Athy, Lt grieved my heart to see you sail, A stick In my hand and a drop in my eye, Though from my heart you took leg-bail, A doleful damsel I heard cry Och, Johnny, I hardly knew ye! Like a cod your doubled up, head and With drums and guns and guns and taU. drums OCh, Johnny, I hardly knew ye! The enemy nearly slew ye, With drums and guns, etc. My darllng dear, you look so queer, Dch, Johnny, I hardly knew ye! You haven't an arm, you haven't a leg, Hurroo! Hurroo! Where are you eyes that looked so mild? You haven't an arm, you haven't a leg, Hurroo! Hurroo! Hurroo! Hurroo! Where are you eyes that looked so mild? You haven't an arm, you haven't a leg, Hurroo! Hurroo! You're an eyeless, noseless, chickenless Where are you eyes that looked so mild? egg; When my poor heart you first beguiled. You'll have to be put wid a bowl to beg; Why did you run from me and the chUd? Och, Johnny, I hardly knew yel Och, Johnny, I hardly knew ye! With drums and guns, etc. With drums and guns, etc.

Where are the legs with which you run, I'm happy for to see you home, Hurroo! Hurroo! Hurroo! Hurroo! Where are the legs with "hich you run, I'm happy for to see you home, Hurroo! Hurroo! Hurroo! Hurroo! Where are the legs with which you run, I'm happy for to see you home, When you went to carry a gtm, All from the Island of Ceylon, Indeed, your dancing days are done, So low in flesh, so high in bone, Och. Johnny, I hardly knew ye! Qch, Johnny, I hardly Knew ye! With drums and guns, etc. With drums and guns, P.tc.

But sad It is to see you so, Hurroo! Hurroo! But sad it is to see you so, Hurroo! Hurroo! But sad it is to see you so, And to think of you now as an object of woe, Your Peggy '11 still keep you as her beau, Qch, Johnny, I hardly knew ye! With drums and guns, etc.

(The foregoing is given at the request of a correspondent in England as a sample of the rollicking humour of the ballads which catchy marching music carried to a great height of popularity In Ireland fifty years ago.) OLD COME-ALL-YE'S. 43

MOORLOUGH MARY.

The first time I saw my young Moorlough Now I'll away to my situation Mary For recreation is all in vain, 'Twas in the market of sweet Strabane, 0Jn the River Mourne I'll sing your Her smiling countenance was so engaging praises, The hearts of young men, she did Till the rocks re-echo my plaintive tr"pan. strain Her killing glances ben a ved my senses I'll press my cheese while my wool's OIf peace and comf"rt by night and a-teasing day, My ewes I'll milk by the peep-o-day, In my silent slumber r start with wonder, When the wirrowing moorcock and lark Oh, Moorlough Mary, wili you come alarms me away? Oh, Moorlough Mary, w!ll you come away?

To see my darling on a summer morn­ ing On Moorlough's banks I win never When Flora's fragrance bedecks the wander lavm, Where heifers graze on a pleasant ~0!l, Her neat dep.lxtment and manners cour­ Where lambkins sporting, fair maids re­ teous sorting, Around her sporti.ng the lamb and The timorous hare and blue heath~r fawn" bell. On her I ponder whe!'l'!, ~r I wander, The thrush and blackbird all sing har­ And still grow fonder, sweet maid of monious, thee; Their notes melodious on Liskey brae By the mqtchless charms I am enam­ A::Jd the pretty small birds all join in oured chorus, Oh, Moorlough Mary, will you come Oh, MOO I"lough Mary, will you come away? away?

Were I a 'Uan of great educrtion, Farewell, my charming young Moorlougl'l Or Elrin's Isle at my own command, Mary, I'd lay my head on your snowy bosom, Ten thousand times I bid you adieu, In wedlock bands, love, we'd join ou r While life remains in my glowing bosom hands. . 1"1 never cease, love, to think of you. I'd entertain you both night and morning, Now I'll away to some lonely valley With robes I'd deck you both bright With tears bewafing both night and and gay, day And with jewels rare, love, I would adorn To some silent arbor where none can you, hear me, Oh, Moorlough Mary, will you come Since Moorlough Mary will not come away? awa.y? 44 OLD COME-ALL-YE'S. ------

DONNELLY AND COOPER ON THE CURRAGH OF KILDARE.

(The subjoined "Gome-AlI-Ye" commemorates in rather rough and ready rhyme a notable boxing bout.)

Come all ye true-bred Irishmen, wher­ When these two champions stripped off, ever you may be, into the ring they came, Likewise pay attention and listen unto For 'they were full determined each me; other's blood to tame; I'll tell a gallant story of those who "do From six to nine they parried time till and dare"- Donnelly knocked him down; Of Donnelly and Cooper that fought in Well done, my child. sweet Grania smiled, sweet K!ldare. that is £ 10,000.

'Twas on the 3rd of June, my boys, the The second round that Cooper fought he challenge was sent o'er lmocked down Donnelly, From Britannia to old Orania to raise And Dan likewise, being of true game, he her son once more. rose most furiously. To renew their satisfaction, and l'. ... cuit Right active then was Cooper, he knocked to recall, Donnelly down again , They were all in deep distraction since The Englishmen they gave three cheers, Donnelly conquered Hall. crying, "The fight is all in ·vain."

Old Oranla read the challenge-received Long life to bl'avC MiSS Kelly, as is re­ It with a smile; corded plain ; You had better hasten to Kildare, it Play She stepped into the ring, saying: "My be worth your while; boy, what do you mean ?" It's there you'll reign victorious, as you've "Oh, Dan, my boy, what do yo u mean, . often done before, my Irish son," said she, And your deeds will shine so glorious "My whole estate this day I've bet on Y"l!, upon the shamrock shore. Dan Donnelly."

The challenge was accepted, these heroes '!'hen Donnelly rose up again, his foe he did prepare met with might, To meet brave Captain Kelly on the Cur­ And pluckily he pummelled, continuing ragh of Kildare; the fight; The Englishmen bet ten to one that day Cooper stood on his defence, a:1j soen against poor Dan, became so frail, Such odds as this could ne'er dismay a A temple blow laid him low ; he sank be­ hefty Irishman. nea th the r ail.

Ye sons of proud Britann ia, your bOil8tS you should recall, For Cooper by Donnelly h as met a sad downfall- In eleven roun's nine knock-downs crack­ ed Cooper's stiff jaw-bone; "So shake hands, Dan Donnelly, the fight. is all your own." OLD COME-ALL-YE'S. ------45

EVICTION OF A DONEGAL PRIEST.

(The contributor of the following verses states they relate to an occurrence of nearly fif ty years ago.)

You tender-hearted Irishmen, at home And still that latent strength of soul he and o'er the sea, wields at his command, List to a tale of tyranny and sympathise No fear could paralyse his heart, no flat­ With me; tery stay his hand, The Rev. John M'Groarty, most dearly When voice or pen is needed to peasants' loved by all, right protect, Has lately been evicted in the County The people's helper, always proud, Donegal. stands fearless and erect.

What was the crime, the world may ask, Dark are the hills of Donegal, and darker that this the case should be? still the deeds, He was the champion of the poor, and That landlord rapine there has wrought, fain would have them free. amongst its moors and mead.s, He was the people's advocate, the land­ But darker this than all the rest of all lord's dreaded foe, t:he ruffian crimes, '. . Nor feared their might while he had right That damned the Irish landlords all upon his side to show. through our future times.

This noble priest of Widespread fame, the 'Twas on the fourth of April last; sad annointed Qf the Lord, was it to behold, His gallant deeds for Church and Home, 1\, faithful servant of the Lord, and shep­ we cannot all record. herd of the fold, He fought the battle of the poor, from By landlord hate ejected from his modest Carrick to Glenveigh, little :home Search Ireland round none can be found Because he was the people's friend­ to' equal him to-day. priest of the Ohurch of Rome.

Wibh pride look down to 'sixty-five, when But, thank God, the time's approaching Bradley lay in jail, when base oppressors all With murder foul, most falsely charged, Will cease to persecute the poor from imprisoned Without bail; Cork to Donegal- Our patriot priest right manfully had When people's right will crush out might stood up in the cause. and Freedom soon will come, The battle fought, and set him free, des­ Where floats old Erin's emerald flag, and pite the Englis:h laws. heaven's. brightest sun.

When artificial famine swept the homes of green Gweedore, Brought on by landlords' avarice, the robbers of the poor; Their wrongs and sufferings he pro­ claimed and brought the world to tears, And echbed through the House of Lords and blanched. the British Peers. _":.c;6______0_LD_ COME-ALL-YE'S.

THE BUNCRANA TRAIN. (This ditty was composed over twenty years ago, and though it has no preten­ sion to literary merit, it enjoyed a considerable popularity as a sing-song of a summer-evening among railway trippers from Den'y.) Some people like to have a drive, For locolists, provocolists, and those Whilst others like a row, that like to sing, Young people getting up in life I am sure M'Garvey he'll be there to A courting they w1ll go, play the Highland Fling. But if the evening does keep fine As for singing or for dancing And does not threaten rain, To him it's all the same, Sure I'd prefer a trip to Fahan For he's the sole "milsiclaner" On the "Buncrana Train." On the "Buncrana Train." Chorus.,

Chorus. For Orockett he's the driver, We pass Bridgend, reach Burnfoot, And Bonner Is the guard, And there we give a call And if you have your ticket To view that ancient city All care you can discard, And its ancient Corporation Hall. Let you be fop or "summer swell," Th.e King of Tory Island To them it's all the same, Is a man of widespread fame, For every man must pay his fare His Royal carriage is attached On the "Buncrana Train." To the "Buncrana Train." Chorus.,

We go to Fahan to haVe a "dip" And stroll along the strand, Then up the road to have a cup Of coffee at the stand. The Barmaid she Is charming, With her you can remain Until it's time for to go back On the "Buncrana Train." Chorus ..

MOLLY. ASTORE.

(Committed to memory I>y Mr. Hugh Bonar, Trenta, Letterkenny; who trans­ mits the verses to us. He learned this ballad from a nonagenarian's dictation at the time.)

As down by "Banna's" banks I strayed The daisy, pied and all the sweets One evening in May, The dawn of Nature yields, The little birds with bl1thsome notes The primrose, too, and violet blue Made vocal every spray. Lay scattered o'er the fields, They sang their little songs of love, Such fragrance in the bosom lies They sang them o'er and o'er. Of her whom I adore, Ah, gra machree, ma coolen oge, Ab, gra machree, ma cool en oge, M:! Molly, Astore. My Mally. Astor ~ OLD COME-ALL-YE'S. 47

I laid me down upon a bank, Oh, had I all the ftocks that feed Bewailing my sad fate On yonder yellow hill, That doomed me thus the slave of love ·Or lowed for me the numerous herds And cruel Mony's hate. That yon rich pastures fill, How can she break the honest heart With her I love I'd gladly share That wears her in its care, My klne and fteecy store, Ah, gra machree, my coolen oge, Ah, gra machree, my coolen oge, My Molly, Astore. My Molly, Astore. Two turtle doves above my head You said you loved me, Molly dear, Sat courting on a bough, Oh, why did I believe ; I envied them their happiness But who would think such tender words To see them 'bill and coo, Were meant for to deceive. Such fondness once for me was shown, Thy love was all I ask'd on earth, But now, allls, it's o'er, Kind Heaven could grant no more. Ah, gra machree, my coolen oge, Ah, gra machree, my coolen oge. My Molly, Astore. My Molly, Astore.

No w, fare thee well, my Molly dear, Thy loss I e'er shall moan, While life remains within this heart 'Twill beat for thee alone. Though thou wert false, may Heaven above Its choicest blessings pour On, gra machree, ma. coolen oge , My Molly. Astore.

THE MAID OF THE SWEET BROWN KNOW£.

Come all you lads and lasses This fair and ftckle young thing, And listen to me a while. She knew not what to say, I will sing to you a verse or two Her eyes did shine like diamonds bright, That will cause you all to smile, And merrily did play. Concerning a young man She says "young man, your love subdue, I am going to tell you now, For I'm not ready now, Who has lately come a-courting I will spend another season The maid of the Sweet Brown Knowe. At the foot of the Sweet Brown Knowe."

The young man says "my pretty maid The young man says "my pretty maid, Will you come along with me, How can you answer so, We will both fty off together, See down in yonder valley And married we will be; My crops do gently grow. We'll join our hands in wedlock bans, Down in yonder vaHey, As I'm speaking to you now Where my horses, men and plough. I will do my best endeavour Are at their daily labour For the maid of the Sweet Brown For the maid of the SWeet Brown KDowIa," Knowe." 48 OLD COME-ALL-\.'E'S.

"If they're at their daily labour, "If I rap and call and pay for all Kind sir, 'tis not for me; The money is all my own, I've heard of your behaviour- I will never spend your fortune, I have, indeed, said she. For I hear that you've got none; There is an Inn where you call in, You thought you had my poor heart won I hear the people say, By meeting with you now, Where you rap and call and pay for all, But I'll leave you where I'v,e found you And come home at the break of day." At the foot of the Sweet Brown Knowe."

THE OLD BOG ROAD.

My feet are here on Broadway My mother died last springtime, This blessed harvest morn, When Erin's fields were green. But oh! the ache that's in them The neighbours said her waking For the spot where I was born. Was the finest ever seen, My weary hands are blistered There were snowdrops and primroses Through working cold and heat! Piled high above her bed, And oh! to swing a sythe once more And Fern's Church was crowded Through a field of Irish wneat. When her funeral Mass was ,·ead. Had I the chance to wander back, And here am I in Broadway Or own a king's abode. A-building bricks per load, I'd sooner see the hawthorn tree When they carried out her co:ffin By the Old Bog Roan, Down the old Bog Road,

When I was young and restle;;;s There was a decent girl at home My mind was ill at ease. Who used to walk with me. Through dreaming of America, Her eyes were soft and sorrowful And the gold beyond the seas, Like moonlight o'er the sea. Oh, sorrow take their money, Her name was Mary Dwyer, 'Tis hard to find the same, But tha-t was long' ago. And what's the world to any man The ways of God are wiser If no one speaks his name. Than the things that man might I've had my day and here I am know. A-building bricks per load. She died the day I left her, A long three thousand miles away A-building bricks per load, From the old Bog Road, I'd best forget the days I've spent On the old Bog Road.

All! Life's a weary puzzle, Past finding out by man. I'll take the day for what it's worth And do the best I can, Since no one cares a rush for me What need is there to moan, I'll go my way and draw my pay And smoke my pipe alone, Each human heart must bear its grief Though bitter be the 'bode So God be with you, Ireland, . 4nd the Old Bog Road, OLD COME-ALL-YE'S. 49

THE BOLD BEGGAR'S DAUGHTER. (The "Come-all-ye" appended below is well-known througll0ut Inishowen, parti­ cularly amongst the older ~eneration of the hardy peasantry along the coast from Dunaff to Malin Head.-A.M.UD.J

There was a blind beggar, a long time The next came to court her was a captain ago, sn slight, He had but one daughter, whose c11eeks And he courted fail Betty by day and were aglow. by night. She was neat and well-featured in every "My ships that I sail on, I'll swop them degree, for thee, And the neighbours all called h er their If you name me your father, my bonnie bonnie Bett-ee. Bett-ee." The next came to court her- a squire by As Betty was walking along the high­ full right; way, He came to court Betty by day and by She met with a fairy, who to her did say: night. "'Tis in the King's parll)ul' your living He called h er his jewel, his joy anc shall be, machree, And happy's the man who gets bonnie Will you name me your father, my bonnie Bett-ee." Bett- ee? 'Twas early ne~ t morning, as Betty arose, "His marks and his tokens I'll tell them She said to her father: "I must get some to thee, clothes, My father is kied every day unto me, And go seek my fortune wherever it be"­ But he's led by a dog. with a chain a nci a And the favour was granted t o bonnie bell, Bett-ee. And he's called the BlL'1d Beggar from St. Columb's Well!" The first came to COUl·t her was a mer­ chant so bright : "}lold! hold!" said the merchant, "her He courted bold Betty by day and by will not take." night. "Hold! hold!" said the captain. "her will forsake." He called her his jewel, 11is joy, his "Hold! hold! " said the sq uire, "let the ma~hree, be ggar lass be, "'Will you name me yoUl' father. my She's a thousand times welcome. rr::? bannh Bett-ee." bonnie Bett-ee."

When the squire counted down the best of his store, 'JL' he blind beggar !eft down a full thous­ and pounds 1110rr:, Now the couple got married and live at their ease. [wd the bonnie brave girl can do as she'll please.

( J'b. such a gay gatherin' never was seen .1 IS ~ a me to Bett's wedding on St. Columb's Green! 50 OLD COME-ALL-YE'S.------

THE FUNERAL OF MICHAEL HERAGHTY.

You friends of truth and justice, He died of typhUS fever, Throughout great Erin's Isle, Arising from a cold, I humbly crave attention Such was the doctor's statement, And ask you for awhile- As in the Press was told. With Christian zeal and fervency­ And you, my friends, may well conclude, To jOin my mournful wail With firm convicLion rest, For the loss of Michael Heraghty, His love within the prison walls Who died in Lifford Ja iL Was nothing of the best.

For the murder of Lord Leitrim, Oh! what a glorious sight it was, One sunny April morn, Upon the funeral day, From house and home and kith and kin, To see 10,000 marching forth- ten thou­ He ruthlessly was torn, sand- On mere suspicion of the crime, Robed all in rich array, Of which it is confessed, Of tall and sturdy brave young men, He was as guiltless as the new-born babe, Who, all green ribbons wore; Upon its mother's breast. I'm sure you'd not their equal find, Around the Shamrock Shore. Though lodged within a prison cell, His spirits still were gay. Ten hundred of our Irish girls He sang his sweetest songs therein, This grand procession joined, And whiled the time away, And for glorious deeds, our Irish girls, In hopes at last to meet his friends Were never left behind. And comrades one and all, The part they played on Limerick's And breathe once more sweet freedom's Walls, breath, Three hundred years ago, In dear old Donegal. They would repeat to-morrow, If necessity forced them so.

His conscience never annoyed him, Our noble clergy led the ranks­ 1:<'01' crime he never knew; They were always in the van No doubt he'd be acquitted Of honest, daring deeds- If justice got its due; 'TU; they alone who can. Perhaps it's better as it is, And all who saw brave Father George The laurel is on his brow, Upon that special day. And the biting blast of tyranny He's a priest we all should honour, Can never reach him now. Be he wherever he may.

Now , I'll ask you one and all, To join your prayers with mine, That the sinless soul of Heraghty In bliss may ever shine 'Mong kindred spirits in heaven above, Before God's Holy Throne, Where worldly sufferings terminate, And sorrow is unknown. ______. ___ ---==o::L:: D~COME - ALL-YE'S. 51

THE BANKS OF CLAUDY.

Original version of the ~amous old "Come-all-Ye."

As I roved out one evening clear, ail in "Oh, if Johnny he was here to-night he the month of May, would keep me from all h arm; Down by you fiowery garden as I care­ But he is in the field of battle all in his lessly did stray, uniform. I overheard a fair maid, in sorrow did He is in the field of battle, and his foes complain, h e does defy All for her absent lover, and Johnny was Like a ruling king o,f honour ali in the his name. wars o·f Troy.' ,

I boldly stepped up to her, I put her in "It is ten weeks and better since Johnny sUl'pris·e; left the shore. I own she did not know me, I being in He is crossing the wild ocean where ldty disguise; 'billows roar. I said-"My pretty fair maid, my joy and He is crossing the wild ocean fo l' hom ur heart 's delight, and for fame, How far do you mean to wander, this And as I'm told the ship was wrecked all d(U' k and dreary night?" on the coast of Spain."

"Kind sir, the ro·ad to ClaUdy will you When she heard this dreadful news she be pleased to show; fel! into despair; and pity the distressed, for there I mean With the wringing of her snow-white to go hands and tearing of her hair, In search of a faithless young man, and Saying: "My true and faithful Johnny Johnny is his name, no other man I'll take, And on the banks of C1audy I'm told h e And through lOnesome groves and valleys does remain." I'll wander for your sake."

"This is the banks of Olaudy, fair maid, It's when he seen h er loyalty he could whereon you stand, no longer stand, Don't depend on Johnny, for he is a false He fell into her arms, saying: "Bessy, I'm young man, the man." Don't depend on Johnny, for he'll not Saying "Bessy, I'm the young man, th·e meet you here. cause Of all your pain, Come, tarry with me in this green wood; And since we have met on Claudy's banks no danger need you fear ." we n e'er shall part again." 57. OLD COME-ALL-YE'S.

PAT CAMPBELL THE DROVER.

On the first day of April, we cannot By one and by one away then they stole, forget And they thought to leave Campbell to T'hree English blades together h ave met; p:1Y for the whole; They mounted on horseback and swore solemnly The landlord came in, and to Campbell That they'd make April fool of the fi rst h e said, they would see. "I'm afraid, Irish Pat, there's a trick on you played. "

Pat Campbell, the Drover , they chanced for to spy; "No matter," said Pat, "since t1J.ey've tie lives in Tyrone, near a town called gone away, the Moy- I've plenty of m oney the reckoning to They saluted Pat Campbell and lie did pay; the same And in close con versa tion together they Come sit down beside me before that I came. go, I'll tell you a story perhaps you don't know. They came to an Inn where they made a full stop, And then they asked Pat would he take I'll tell you a secret contrary to law, a drop,; F'or two sorts of liquor from one cask I'll Campbell made answer and said with a draw." smile, "I long for the taste of the ale of Car­ The landlord, being eager to h ear of the lisle." plan, Down to the cellar with Oampbellhe ran. They then gave their horses in charge of a groom, Pat bored a hole in a very short space, And ~et themselves down in a well­ The master put his h ane! on t'he very furnished room; same place; They ate and they drank, and sported at Pat bored another, "Put your other hand will, there, rill they'd forty-eight shillings to While I go for a tumbler do run up the pay for the bill. stair."

E·:trly next morning, between eight and When Pat reached the top h e buttoned nine, his coat, rhey called for their breakfasts and And this on the table with ct alk 11e afterwards wine; wrote- fhen n ext to their horses went good oats "Wi th two sorts of liquor the re ckoning and hay I've paid, And they thought to leave Campbell tl:e 'Twill buy a new haft for a l1€ w English reckoning to pay. blade." OLD COME-ALL-YE'S. 53 He mounted on horseback, was soon out "0 master, 0 master, what has yOU be­ of sight; fell ?" The ostler came in to see everything "What has happened ?- Indeed, sir, I right; cannot well tell; He searched the house from the top to My hands are engaged as you plainly the ground, may see, And his master half dead in the cellar I thought to trick Paddy, but Paddy he found. tricked me."

THAT HERO SHANE M'HUGH.

Relating to Incidents of a Past Generation.

It was on a breezy evening, all In the "If you are a friend to Irishmen and merry month of May, have a while to stay, Straight-way to Brocagh , lowly 'ti5 there I'll tell you the reason why he had to go I took my way; a.way; I drew near an ancient dwelling place He disputed with the Kennedys, that where some friends lived I knew, dominating crew, But saw none there that I cO llld compare And they tried civil process to banish with tha.t hero Shane M'liugh. brave M'Hugh.

When I came to those old walls I was "To the Court Shane was demanded by a speechless with amaze, notice at his door, And I began to tremble as at them I did The bailiff with the police the order there gaze, they bore; They looked so cold and shabby they They smiled at the ¥reat work they grieved me mUCh , 'tis true, thought that day they'd do, Inquiririg of those old walls for tha,t hero But defiance was the answer from that Shane M'Hugh. hero Shane M'Hugh.

They softly echoed answer, "that hero is "If all the men in Ireland were like brave not here, ' Shane M'Hugh, He has left us to mourn his loss, for to us We'd be free from rents and taxes and he was dear- from ba iliffs' bouncing, too ; He left the bonny banks of Finn, into The power of landlords we could crush the Lennon drew. and agents we'd subdue, And the people all are sighing for that If all the men in Ireland were like brave hero Shane M'Hugh. Shane M'Hugh.

"Now to conclude and finish I mean to say no more, The Kennedys are banished Into a for­ eign shore; Some of them. to India gone and others to Peru, But it's lucky we have still left full many a brave M'Hugh." 54 OLD COME-ALI..-YE'S

DERRY'S OLD WOODEN BRIDGE

The old wooden bridge that our older generation still remember, was 1,068 feet in length and 40 feet wide. It was open ed f'Or traffi c on the 23rd N.ovember, 1790, and cost £ 12,583 Is 9d, and produced in tolls the first year £ 1,470. For the year 1839 the sale by a uction o·f the toll realised £ 3,675, and, in 1862 it a mounted to £5,200. This 'Old bridge was replaced by tile p·resent artistic structure that cost £ 90,000 , and was regarded f'Or years aft er its erection as one of the most h andsome of its kind in Europe. (This refers to the late Qa rlisle Bridge). The lines written below were printed in 1863 by the late Mr. Young.-A.M.O'>D.

The day is now appr'Oaching fast, But soon thou wert repair'd ag·ain, When thou that hast withstood the blast And render'd able to sustain Of many a winter bleak, Of many tons the weight; Shall be by ruthless hands destroy'd, 0 1[ every tempest bear the shock, Axe, cr'Ow-bar, hammer be employ'd Unshaken as a solid rock, Thee to asunder break. When waves against it beat.

The builders sage, with skill and toil, Of service great thou hast been. long, From Side to side a cross the Foyle, And though grown old still hale and strong, ~fhe planks securely laid. That travellers of every class, And fit for use appear; And vehicles, might o'er thee pass The credit of thy cash account, Soon as the toll was paid. In pounds to thousands will amount Thy last surviv.ing year.

And long thou wert the boast and pride As billows to the strand rush on, Of Derry, and the highest tide Br eak suddenly and soon are gone R.esisted, till the frost As though they ne 'er had been, Of eighteen-hundred and fourteen Thousands of those who crossed thee o'er R'alsed ·blocks of Ice and piles between, Have reached Eternity's vast shore, And broke each centre post. And will no more be seen.

And Time, which has pronounc'd thy doom, And rais'd a rival in thy room, Built up of iron strong, Will also at some future day Cause it, like thee, to pass away. With all who round it throng. OLD COME-ALL-YE'S. 55 LOUGH SWILLY SHORE. Adieu, ye bonny winding banks, With sweethearts, friends and comrades That border 'round Lough Swilly dear, shore; Oh, many's the happy days I spent, Of them I take a long farewell; With jovial mirth and l'evelry, I fear I'll never see them more. I spent my youthful days content, While life remains I'll bear In mind But now Oppression's cruel chains, The pleasant scenes from them I saw, Which does, indeed, surround us a', I soon must cross the Atlantic main It makes me weep, when I should sleep, To freedom's land that's far awa'. In a foreign clime, when far awa'. Our good ship lies in readiness, Farewell to Convoy and Raphoe, At Londonderry, just beside, Ramelton, and Rathmullan, too, May Providence our pilot be, Kil'kneedy, and old Roohan braes, And send a prosperous wInd and tide. Unto them all I bid adieu, My fortune I am bound to try Sweet Letterkenny I must leave, In famous free C'olumbia, Where many's the blooming girl I saw, When I think long, with brandy strong, And while I ride the winding tide, I'll drown all care when far awa'. I'I sigh for them when far awa'. It grieves my youthful tenderness, Her name to trace, a beast first place, The leaving of my native shore; A river next you may transpose, Besides, to think that I must part And what the vast Atlantic is With the handsome maid that I adore. With fifty, and a vowel shows. My heart with love is sore oppressed, This beauty she has jet black eyes, Since first her lovely face I saw; r love her r make bold to say; She's my delight, both day and night, Alas! I cannot count my sighs, And ever will when I'm awa'. Since she can't come to America. (The foregoing ditty was composed by John Duffy, of Rowhan, New Mills, Let­ terkenny, on his way to the States about I1xty years ago. It is better known as "Duffy's Farewell," The answer to the Charade is "Catherine Broadly.")

THE FEENY BOY'S SONG. Come all you Roman CatholiCS wherever that you be, To Newtown-Limavady they marched r hope you'll pay attention and listen away us four; unto me. OUr parents took their leave of us I'm now confined in prison, for com­ To never see us more. rades I have three, Because we' were all Romans of us they'd It is not for building churches, nor yet take no bail, for throwing them down, We then were sentenced for twelve But because we wore the Shamrock green months and walked through Feeny town. To Londonderry Jail. 'Twas at the last election, as you may The Rev. Father Kearney a letter he did understand, send They swore we were the only ones Unto the House od' Parliament, where Waylaid an Orangeman. there he had a friend. That four of us had beat him all on the It was brave C'ouncillor Greer that noth­ lOng's highway, ing could him fail, JiT... '1at we wore the Shamrock Ilreen Who said "those boys I'll liberate from All. Ofl St. Patctck'.s Day. Londonderry Jail." 56 OLD COME-ALL-YE'S. ~~------. ------~~----~ 'Twas in a few days after he reached Youn Feeny he played Garryowen, that the Shamrock shore; was to clear the way; He walked up unto the jail, and he tUl'l1 ed The "White Cockade" was danced, and out us foul'. then he played "St. Patrick's Day." The J ailor and the Turkey they trembled both with fear Now, th anks to kind Providence, we've When they saw brave Father Keal' ney got fair play at last. along with Mr. Greer. Since the Emancipation Bill in Parlia­ ment has passed, When we came to Cumber-Claudy they Th e Lord may rest O'Connell's soul, he did us all admire, broke our chains in twa, When the news went on to Laghtoloob And now we are at liberty in Erln green they lit up a bonfire. go bragh.

COME BACK, PADDY REILLY, TO BALLYJAMESDUFF.

At the request of a number of readers we h ave secured and now publish the words of this old, and once popular Come-all-ye.

0., the Garden of Eden has vanished they But I knew I was born in Ballyjames­ say; duff, But I know the lie of It still; And that's why I smiled on them all; Just turn to the left at the Bridge of That baby's a man now, he is toil worn Finea, and tough; And stop when half-way to Cottehill. Still whispers come over the sea, It's there I Will find it , I know sure Come back, Paddy Re11ly, to Bal1yj ames­ enough, duff, When fortune has come to my call. Come home, Pa ddy Reilly, to me. Oh, the grass it is green around Bally­ jamesduff, o the night that we danced by the light And the blue sky is over it all, 0' the moon, And tones that are tender and tones that With Phil to the fore with his flute. are gruff When Phil threw his lip over "COme Come whispering over the sea, Again Soon,'" Come back, Paddy Reilly, to Bal1y­ Sure h e'd dance the foot out of your jamesduff. boot, COme home, Paddy Rellly, to me. And the night that I took Long Magee by the scruff For slandering Rosle K1lran, My mother once tOld me the day I was Then marched him straight out of Bally­ born, jamesduff, The day that I first saw the light. Assisted him into a drain. I looked dawn the street on that very Oh! sweet are my dreams as the dudeen first morn, I puff, And gave a great crow of delight. Of whisperings over the sea, Now most new-born babies appear in a COme back, Paddy Reilly, to Bally­ huff, jamesduff. And start with a oorrowfUl squall, Come back, Paddy Rellly, to me: OLD COME-ALL-YE'S. 57 THE NORTH-WEST TIRCONAILL BOYS. In the town of Magheroarty, in County The B1ueshlrts then were seized with Donegal, funk as they gazed upon this man. A fete was lately started in an ancient He made them say "Down Duffy, Jimmy co un ty hall; Thomas and his band" The promoter was a patriot, a man of In tones of patriot resolve he vowed ~,,­ noted fame, fore them all A strong defender of his Faith and sup­ That no Blue Flag would ever wave in porter of 8inn Fein. North West Donegal. In Gortahork, oft famous for men both Now, the boys of Magheroarty and good and true. of Meenlaragh as well, But now. alas, perverted by the hated Lined up with all their comrades outside Saxon blue, a famed hotel. The imitation Nazis converged from far They got their numbers from the right; and nigh, the last was ninety-two; To march on Magheroarty and civil And then. like "Bony's" Army. l.!1ey righ ts defy. marched through Glasserchoo. They were sadly disappointed when they Llo"en. ye Blues of Gortahork, for all came upon the scene your "rant and rave." To find the country's manhood wearing When faced by true Republicans, you're Orange. White and Green. timid as a slave. There were rebels there from Corveen 'Tis the shame should be upon yoa all , and B1oodyforeland, too, on Britain's side to stand, Likewise the Meenacladdy boys, that When Eire. her sons and daughters, bold undaunted crew. needs to help their native land. The leader of the rebels came from Now to you. foolish, misled, lads, this Bunaninver town, word I want to say. He looked liIee young Carnera, parading And would impress it on your minds. that up and down; soon will come the day With bold determination he faced them. When Cosgrave and O'Duffy must get one and all. down on bended knee. And ch a ll ~ n ge d an; "Blue" from there to And beg a Free Republic to forgive their Cloughaneely Hall. treachery.

(A Ballad Written 30 yeal'S Ago.) Chorus. F'al', far away on the banks of the Nile. And the tears rolled down his sunburnt Some thousand miles from his own green ch£zks isle. To drop on the letter in his hand; A brave Irish sold.\er. a gallant Dragoon, It is true! too true!- Read his mother's letter by the light of More trouble in my native land. the moon. He stole from the camp that little note It told how the widow could not pay her to read, way Sut the news that it brought macle his Then came the agent one dark, dreary stout h eart bleed. day. Par while Pat was 'ighting at the head To burn down the cabin for the trifle she of his band. owed. His mother was evil ',ed by the laws of Then she and her children were cast 1n the land. the road. -----'5::.:8~ ______O_ L_D_ COME-ALL-YE'S.

Though she h ad one son, a tar, afioat on Took them to her cabin, where logs were the fo am, burning bright-- Another a soldier, yet both far from The widow and her children wept tears home, of delight, Carrying the colours against the dusky foe, "I know I'm doing wrong," the poor old crea ture said, While their warm-hearted mother lay starving in the snow. "By giving you a shelter in this poor humble shed, It told how a neighbour, a true friend, Yet with all my heart you're welcome; indeed, for cruel laws I spurn, As if sent by Heaven to the outcast in My home shall be your home till your sol­ need, dier son returns."

GLENSWILLY. Attention pay my countrymen, No more I'll dance the "Irish Jig" And hear my native news, No more at balls or harvest homes I own my song is sorrowful, My violin I shall play, I hope you'll me excuse; Amongst the girls so gay. I left my native country My treasured harp I left behind, A foreign land to see, Though it was dear to me, I bid farewell to Donegal, 'Twill keep my place when I am gone Likewise to Glenswill-ee. Far from ancient Glenswill-ee. The summer sun was sinking fast No more beside the sycamore Behind a mountain grey, I'll hear the blackbirds sing, When I left my peaceful residence No more for me the blythe cuckoo, To wander far away; Shall welcome back the spring; And as I viewed these grand old glens, No more I'll plough your fertile fields, With grief in leaving thee, Acushla Ghall Machree, And all the happy days I've spent In a fo reign soil I'm bound to toil Around sweet Glenswill-ee. Far from sweet Glen swill-ee. Some stalwart men around me stood. God bless you, dark old Donegal, My comrades kind and true, My own, my n ative land, And as I grasped each well-known h and In dreams I often see your hills To bid a last adieu. And towering mountains grand; Said I "My native countrymen, But, alas, ten thousand miles doth He It's soon you shall be free. Betwixt these hills and me, To raise the 'Sunburst' proudly I'm a poor forlorn exile, D'er the hills of Glenswill-ee. Far away from Glenswill-ee. May peace and plenty reign supreme Around Lough Sowilly's shore, May discord never enter those DId homesteads anymore; And may the time soon come around When I return to thee, To live where my forefathers did In dear old Glenswill-ee. (The above ditty, it is believed, was composed by a village poet, who, to meet the exigenCies of rhyme. places a specially long emphasis on the last syllable of the word "Glenswilly"). OLD COME-ALL-YE'S. S9 ------~ TOAST OF AN: IRISH COLLEEN. As the sweetest of flowers in the garden I went to a party, consisting of four, that grows, And, as it was plivate, we soon closed But with love and respect there's a vast the door. gulf between, There was a young girl from E'ilgland, ]'or the s.hamrock's the flo,wer for an another from Waleli, IriSh Qolleen. And one who resided in Scotland'l> fair Chorus. dales; As we sat there in friendship and drank of the wine, AS I STROLLED ALONG ERIN'tj Each talked of their CO'untry; I told GREEN SUORE. them of mine; As I strolled out one evening, The rose, leek, and thistle in concord By the banks of a clear furl!ng stream, were seen; It was on a soft bed of primroses Then, says I, here's a toast from an Irish 'I1hat I slowly fell into a dream; Colleen: I dreamt I espied a fair female, H;er equal I ne'er shall see more, Ohorus. And she sIghed for the wrongs of h er "Here's to old Ireland, her sons and her country daughters, As she strolled along Elrin's green Here's to her emblem, the Shamrock I shore. mean, I gently embraced this fair female; May the sun ever shine on the Round "Pray, jewel, pure, tell us your name; Towers of Ireland; I am here in the midst of all danger, T'hat's a toast from the heart of a n D.·ish Or I ne'er sure would ask you that Colleen." same." The Welsh girl got up in defence of the "I'm a daughter to Daniel O' C:onnell. Leek, That from England has lately sailed Saying: "I'll drink to my country each o'er. day of the week." I came here to waken thy brethren The lassie from Scotland, with a smile That have slumbered along Erin's in her eye, green shore." S:l ying: "Here's to the Thistle, no Sicotch Her eyes were like two sparkling men denies"; diamonds The El nglish girl then gave a toast to the Or llke stars on a clear, frosty night, Rose, Her cheeks wer,e like two blooming roses. And said: "With your aid we could thrash And her skin was a pure lily white. all our foes." She resembled th e goddess of freedom. Said 1: "I am not willing to cause any And green was th·e mantle she wore, . pain, It was decked with the rose and the But I wish you would join in my toast shamrock, once again." As she strolled along El'in's green shore. Chorus. In transpo'ft of joy I then wakened, "I own not with traitors, no matter the Not thinking it was but a dream, cause, When this beautiful damsel h ad left me, All that I want Is just honest laws, I longed for to slumber again. And the man that's ashamed of the land May the angels above be her guardian, whence he came As she strolls along E'rin's green shore Is no man , n Or even wo ,·thy the name. May the sunburst of E'rin shine o'er her I Own as a flower I am fond of the Rose, Her equal I ne'er sh all see more. 60 OLD COME-ALL-YE'S.

THE LASS FROM GLENCOE.

As I went a-walking one evening of "Perhaps your young Donald regards not late, your name, Wh en Flora's green mantle the fi elds (·,8- And has pla.ced his affection on some corate, fo reign dame. I carelessly wandered where I did not He may have forgot you for aught that know you know, To the banks of a fountain that lies near The lovely young lassie he met near Glencoe. Glencoe."

Like her who the prize on Mount Ida h ad "My Donald can never from his promise won, depa.rt, There approached a young lassie as For love, truth, 'and valour are found in brigh t as the sun, his heart. The ribbons and tartans around her did And if I ne'er see him I single will go, fiow And mourn for my Donald, the pride of That once graced MacDona.ld the pride Glencoe." of Glencoe.

Then, finding her constant, he pulled He S:LYs, "My young lassie, your enchant­ out a glove, ing smiles Which on parting she gave him a token And comely fair fe atures have my heart of love, beguiled, He hung on her breast, while the tears If yo ur affections on me yo u'll bestow, down did fiow, You'll bless the happy hours we met near Saying, "You are my Donald returned Glencoe." to Glencoe."

She said, "My young man, your suit I "Cheer up, my dear Flora, your sorrows disdain, are o'er, I once ha.d a lover, young Donald by While life does remain we will never part name. more, He's gone to the wars about ten years The dread storms of war around us may ago blow, And a maid I'll remain till he returns to And in peace and contentment we'll re­ Glencoe." side near Glencoe."

These stanzas, given by request, though Scottish in local colour and per­ sonnel, yet they enshrine in glowing measure a real Irish sentiment. OLD COME:-ALL-YE'S. 61

FRANCIS BRADLEY.

(Francis Bradley was many years ago accused of the murder of Grierson, gamekeeper to John George Adair, known as the evictor of the Derryveagh ten­ antry, County Done~!) .

Attend each loyal hero through Tyrene From Milford Town to Letterkenny, from and Donegal, Raphae to Donegal, The news I hring is good and true, :;md From Ballyshannen to' Dunglee, and will please the hearts of :J.Jl­ round the Rosses all, Young Francis Bradley he is free, a sen horn Carndonagh to MO'ville and reund of Granuaile, the northern sea, Thank God, he is at liberty, and out of They all rejoice with heart and voice Lifford Jail. since Francis Bradley's free.

When Bradley he was taken he smiled The bays of IJendalllderry, De 'r~bl· idg1e. and did reply: and Strabane, "I am innocent of the charge, my friends, Enniskillen and Belleek, and round on that you may reiy; Lough E]rne's Strand, To Grierson or his family I never did an From Malin Head to Killybegs, if yeu ill, biad been there to see, I observed the Lord's Oommandments, Beth man and bay seem full of joy siti.ce Where He says, 'Thou shalt not kill.' " Francis Bradley's free.

When Bradley was sent to jail we ex­ He looked, then smiled 0Il1 all his friends pected for to see tha t came fram far' and near, At th.e very next Assizes our innocent And bade them all keep up their heaTts, friend set free. and not give way to' fea'r_ The jury disagreed on him, and the The learned lawyer then arose: Now, . Judge would not take bail, gentlemen, said he, So back to Lifford prison went this son This is the day hangs 0 '1' transports, er of Granuaile. sets young Bradley free.

While Bradley lay in prison strong his Tne jurymen then retired unto their friends they did agree juryroom, To send to Dublin fer brave Ceuncillor EJach friendly heart impatient bea,ts to Dowse to set our hero free- hear yeung Bradley's daom. He did appear, and showed quite clear The' foreman of the jury re'turns-goad, that Bradley should get free, my lord, says he, On his native sed we now thank God, The jury they have split again" which young Francis Bradley's free. sets young Bradley free.

Now to conclude and finish, I will lay down my pen, Tha t the Lerd may prosper every man who stood young Bradley's friend. May the honest Judge and jurymen in office long remain, That left young Bradley standing free 19ain upon his native plain. THE GAUGER 01<' GWEEDORE

(The Excise Officer resident in Gwee dore forty years ago, when on his visit to the town land 'Of Lettercash, Upper Rosses, accidentally came across a still­ h ouse in the townland of M~ t;lldernasloe , Upper Rosses. He was seized and con­ fined in an unoccupied house until the poteen fully manufactured had been safely removed, and he was then libera ted. He at once went to the R.I.C. Bar­ racks, Annagry, where he related his ad venture of the night, and gave a descrip­ tion of the poteen-makers.)

In a deep and lonely mountain vale con­ Rogers, with Herrighty, they crossed th' venient to Dungloe Atlantic foam Poteen was a-making some forty years To seek far off the comforts they were ago. denied at home. Patrick IWgers was the maker on a dull Sweeney went to S'cotland, 'but a prisoner November day, home was brought, When the Gauger from Gweedore he His trial he stood in patience-his des­ chanced to pass that way. tiny was wrought.

To an empty house he was consigned A servitude in prison, away from his until the dawn next day. fl'iends so dear; Then h e had permission to pass upon His wife and lonely children bewailed his way; with many a tear. To Annagry, snug village, in haste he did Rogers, by an accident, returned to repair; FJrln's shore, And in the Barrack day-room his adven­ But was not long In residence-he ture did declare. crossed to Arranmore.

The constables in eagerness searched townlands short and tall, Thence on the steamer Sligo he sailed From Bunaman to MeenaJ.eck, and on to to Glasgow town, Meenascawl. And so returned in safety, while the law Ranafast was not forgot-nor neglected did on him frown. Lo ughanure. God grant him health and plenty on far But gone were the poteen-makers across Columbia's shore, . the lonely moor. The Gauger from Gweedore. OLD COME-ALL-YE'S.

SIIA.UN CROSSA A.T DUNGIVEN.

The folloWing lines were written long ago to 'commemorate an exploit of Shaun CTossa at Dungiven, County Derry, wh ere he relleved an English officer of his valuables and accoutrements because the officer boasted that S'haun could not possi'bly succeed In so doing.

Shaun's bold manoeuvres much talk On they came, fearless of danger, afforded, Wdthin the depths of this woody glen, Of his exploits one I'll relate, Then were surprised by the mighty An EJnglish General, it Is recorded, r-anger, Was robbed by Crossa one evening With shouts as if from a hundred men. late.

Imagination, Impelled by terror, The Inn he called at he _boasted greatly, So paralysed them; they could not If he would meet With this robber bold. move. !le would arrest hdm and would convey &haun caused the one to pinion the him, other, To Derry Jail through heat or COld. While he the General bound "for love."

It happened Shaun was close by the fire, And heard the General this language And e'er he bound him he did divest ;Wm use, Of coat, cocked hat, and sabre keen, Which caused him quickly to retire, And to climax all h e quickly Ja,ced him For he had little time to lose. Within the arms of a beggar Queen.

The eve approached, the party started, Full fifteen miles was their journey yet, Now, Shaun dressed In cocked hat in feather, But soon the boasters were proved faint­ A scarlet coat and a slashing sword, hearted, Left the General bound by a stout tether As Shaun alone he them ,beset. To an old Gipsy upon the road.

The place he chose fgr !JUs act sa darlng~ F10r this act so daring he obtained a A risky venture to stop their course­ pardon, Was a deep glen where each sound No cuter exploit is on record; alarming So the poor General for aye faint­ 'Iihrough the woods and caverns re­ hearted, eChoed hoarse. Unto his death wore a wooden sword. 64 THE FLOWER OF SWEET STRABANE. Adieu, then, to the Liffey's banks, and Mo ,u" ne's wate1"s side. Were I the King of Ireland with all I'm sailing far America, whatever may things at my will, betide; I would roam for recreation, new com­ Our ship is baund for Liverpoal, straight forts to find still, by the Isle oJ Man, Adi8 u, my de