THE ERIN'S HOPE SONG BOOK.
~ A Collection of Patriotic Songs and Recitations.
CONTENTS: Lift your Heart up, Mother Et'ln !The Memory of the Dead Despair Not I Betsy Gray . The Gael and the Green I _ The Green Flag Annle, Dear J.:. . The Forging of the'Plkes Oh, Breathe not his Name "-A:;Twent Men from Dublin TOWD The Mountain Top 9.. The Men of Ninety-Eight The Maid of SlIevenamon .3 The Croppy Boy Wrap the Green Flag Rouqd m~Eirghe na Gealalghe The Green Isle of Erin .3 The Rising of the Moon Kelly of KlIlann tr- A Nation Once Again The Men of the West 't" Clare's Dragoons The Priests of Ninety-Eight J The West's Asleep Edward Moltoy , r The Patriot Mother Carroll Dawn 6 Ninety·Eight By Memory Inspired 7 . The Horseman of Dunrone
DUBLIN: NUGENT AND CO., PUBLISHERS, 45 MIDDLE ABBEY STREET.,
Printed in Ireland.] PRICE FOURPENCE. / ERIN'S OWN ' RECITER
A Collection of Popular Irish and Other Recitations
This Collection has been compiled to meet the demand for a cheap .book of Recitations, and contains a number of pieces not to be found in other collections, such as .. Shanahan's QuId, Shebeen," .. A ch, I Dunno," .. Galloping H.ogan," .. Over the Hill," -this latter providing the subject for the famous film of the same name.
Forty-eight pages, Crown 8vo, printed in clear
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THE ERIN'S HOPE SONG BOOK.
DESP AI R NOT ! LI FT YOUR HEART UP, MOTHER ERI N J. K . CASEY. A CENTENARY SONG. Think of the past-do not despair, WILL lAM ROONEY. Nor fill with nseless sighs the ail'; Air- u Billy BYl'lle of Ballymanus." BuL grasp the flag wiLh steady will, And finll as rock upon a hill. fJift your heart up, Mother Erin, ltead ye the lesson taught of old From the sorrows of to-day, By those who now lie dark and cold, And behold the legions faring The gallaut barts wllO 10sL U, e crown, From tlle free lands far away; Yet never bowed the spint Jown. 'L'o tlle old deal' l,o'"eland hieing At the century's clarion caU, They saw the dawniug pale and fade, With tlleir hearts still true The deadly havoc tempests made; '1'0 H ope and you, But love shone pure, aud faith was bright, Though defeat and death befall. The twin-stars of their clouded night. Again they front the tyrant-mass, IVbat tho' clouds obscure the mornlDg, Agai n they're strewed like tedded gra s~ , And no chieftalll walks the land, '(et conquerors, for they left behind :-; till, despair and doubting scorning, The trophies of a country's mind. Nerve again your leal right hand. A.nd, with History'ij la,"p to waste the Despair not! blazon forth this scroll night, Upon t hy country's bannered roll : Keep warden patiently Tl,e righteous cause can never bend For the man to come, Until it conquers in the end. The 'larulll drum, What though tl,e chieHains all are gOIl t'. And the battle yet to be. A line of chiefs sLilI cometh on To send the cry from sea to sea- For the faith of '1'one is bnrlling We m ust be free I-we must be free ~ In the breasts he died to free; And your exile's thoughts are turning Ever, mother, hOllle to thee . . THE GAEL AN D THE GR EEN. And the passing generations A. G. GEOGHEGAN. Hand the breathing splrit on 1'0 the young and strong 00 you remember long ago, Who, watcl,ing, long Kathaleell P For the destined day to dawn. .. When your lover whispered low, .. Shall I stay 01' ~I,all 1 go, So, though Memory bids you s orro~ Kathaleen P" For the trne aJid tried who feU, And you answered proudly, " Go ! Look you, mother, that the morrow And join King James and strike a bl ow Shall as brave a story tell. . F or the Gree n." K eep the fires on every highland '1'111 the solemn lips of Fate Man'one! your hail' is whi te as snolV, Sound the trumpet blast KaLh aleen; That hails at last Your heart is sad and I'nll of woe , The dream of Ninety-Eight. Do YO II repellt you bade l,ill' go, K atl, alee n? HuL qllick you all gwer proll dly," No ! They say you are a conquered rac~ 1"01' better die IV i Lh Sarsfi eld RO , ContenLecl with a despot's sway; Than live a slave witl,oa t a blow Cast hack the black lie in their facI'. lPor the G,·een." And tell thelll YOI1 are Illen to.nav ANNIE, DEAR. THE MOUNTAIN TOP. Our mountain brooks were rushing, DR. CAMPION. Annie, dear; The autumn eve was Hushing, Two thousand men for Ireland upon tlv. Allnie, dear; mountain top! But brighter was your blushing, With such a harvest Freedom's arlll When first, your murmurs hushing, might glean a glorious crop- 1 told my love outgushing, A crop of seed, to cast abroad, through Annie, deal'. village, town, and home, And to the children of the land aCl'O S~ Ah! but our hopes were splendid, the A tlantic's foam. Anme, dear; How sadly they ha.ve ended, 'l'wothousalld menfor Ireland on sjJlendid Annie, deal' ! Slievenamon! 'l'he ring betwixt us broken, Two thousand voices asking Heaven bow When our vows of love were spoken, Ireland may be won- Of your poor heart was a token, Won from her sick'ning thraldom-from Annie, deal'. the serpent's thick'ning coil- From the poison of its slavering tollglle, 'I'he primrose flow'rs were shining, it's trail upon the soil. .Annie, dear, When, on my breast reclining, No plllly ann, nor limb, nor lung could. Annie, dear, . clamber such a height- ' Began our Mi.na.-Meala, A red deer's wild and rocky road, an A:Jld many a month did follow eagle's kingly flight! Of joy-but fife is llOllow, No craven breast could brave that mount, Annie, dear. upon its crest to breathe A prayer to God-to save, to spa.re the ·Por once, when home returning, beauteous land beneath. Annie, deal', I found our cottage burning, 'l'wo thOLlsand men for Ireland upon that Annie, dear; altar high- . AJ'ound i.t were the yeomen, Its broad base, Tipperary! its canopy, thr Of every ill an omen, sky! The country's bitter foemen, Two thousand hearts, ennobled by place, .A.llnie, dear. and cause, and all- Jtwi why al'Ose a morrow, 'l'wo thousand Patriots pondering on theil . Annie, dear, country's rise and fall. Wpon that night of sorrow, Yes, raise the pile, and feed the blaze, 011 Annie, dear P every mountain's side, Fo.r better by thee lying, And, to the blusWess recreant's shame, Their ooyOftets defying, ring out the voice of pride~ Than live an exile sighing, A true man's pride, his country's pride, Almie, deal'. the link that binds in one --- The Irishman of every clime with those OH! BREATHE NOT HIS NAME . 011 Slievenamoll. • Oh, breathe not his name; let it Hleep in SlIre some must tend the sacl'ed fire that the shade, feeds the nation's life, Where cold and unhonoured his relics And though of high or low degree, in are laid. torpid peace or stl'ife, Sad, silent, and dark be the tears that A gallant soul he still must be who gives we ~hed, his aiding breath As tile ni~jlt dew that falls on the grass '1'0 rouse the dark'ning, slumbry spark o'er h1l3 head. from an untimely death. But the night dew that falls, though in Then, hail! brave men of Ireland npon silence it weeps, the mountain top- Shall hrighten with verdure the grave With snch a llarvest Freedom's arm might \vhere he sleeps; glean a glorious Cl'Op. hd the tea'r that we shed, though in Be you of cheer, though foemen sneer, secret it rol\s, and fearlessly push on, ShalllOll.g lceep hiB memory green in our Till evel'Y mountain in the la.nd be l1Ian.ned IOuis. like SlieTella.mon! THE MAID OF SLIEVENAMON. But now, alas! I am denied Mr, dearest earthly prayer; CHARLES J. K ICKHAM. You 11 follow and you'll meet the foe, Alone, all alone, by the wave.wash'd Blit I will not be there. strand, Choru8. And alone in the crowded hall; The hall it is gay, and the waves are But though my body moulders, boYII, grand, My spirit will be free, But my heart is not bere at all. And ev ry comrade's honour, bOYlI, It flies far away, by night and by day, Will yet be dear to me. To the times and the joys that are And in the thick alld bloody fight gone, Let not your courage la/$", And I never can forget the maiden I met For I'll be there and hov'rmg near In the valley near Slievenamon. A round the dear qld flag. Chorua. It was not the grace of her queenly air, Nor her cheek of the rose's glow, Nor her soft black eyes, nor her Howing hair, THE GREEN ISLE 01<' ERIN. Nor was it her lily.white brow. There's a voice m the silence, a voice eTer ''!'was the soul of truth, and of melting calling, ruth, . A voice like the song of a far distant A.nd the smile like a summer dawn, sea, That stole my heart away, one mild A. music the soul of the wanderer en. summer day, thrallin~, In the valley near Slievenamon. It Hoats lIke a dream o'er the waters to me. In the fes.tive hall, by the star.watch'd I hear it with tears and a heart wildly shore, beating, My restless spirit cries: W hile far and alone in a strange land .. My love, oh, my love, shall I ne'er see I roam; you more, I weep as I list, and my prayer!! give it A nd my land, will you ever uprise P" greeting, . By ni ~ht and by day I ever, ever pray, The voice of t.he Green Isle, my country Wlllle lonely my life Hows on, and home. To see our Hag unrolled, and my true love to enfold, Chorus. In the valley near Slievenamon. Oh! Green Isle of Erin that wait. for me yonder, Tho' fate may decree 'tis for enr we WRAP THE GREEN FLAG ROUND ME. part, Still exiled and lonely, where'er I may Wrap the green flag round me, boys, wander, '1'0 die 'twere far more sweet The Green Isle of Erin rAmaina in With Erin's noble emblem, hoys, my heart. '1'0 be my windi.ng sheet. In life I loved to llee it wave, There is nowhere a sea like the blue And follow where it led; rippling ocean But now my eyes grow dim, my hand 'I'hat surges around and beside that Would grasp its last bright shred. dear strand ; Chorus. There's nowhere a star that looks down Then wrap the green flag round me, in devotion bo1s1 So bright as are those that shine down To die 'twere far more sweet on that land. With Erin's noble emblem, boys! With tears in my heart, tears beyond .11 To be my winding sheet. controlling, I wake and remember an exile am I, A.nd 1 had hoped to meet ye, bOYlI, And I pray, tho' between us the wide On many a well.foug~t field, seas are rolling, When to our sacred banner, bOls, To come home to thee-1f 'us only to 'I'h, treacherous foe would yteld. die. ft)
KELLY OF KILLANN. THE MEN OF THE WEST. P. J. M'CALL. WILLLA.M ROONEY.
H What's the ne\V~ p W Il at.'" the lI ews P A ir- " Resin the Bo\v." Oh! my liold Shelll",li"r, While ye honoUt' in song and in 'story With your long-iJarrelled g un 01' the The names of the patriot men, sea. Whose valour h a~ covered with glory Say, what, win d I'rolll the sun !Jlows his Full mallY a IIlountain a nd glen, lIIessell ger here, ForO"et not the boys or the heather, With a hymll of the dawn for tIl e Who marshalled theil' bravest and bes\.. free?" Whell Eire was broken in W exford, .. Goodly news! goodly news! do 1 bring, AlId looked fo r revenge to the West.! Y onth of Forth; Goodly news shall you hear, Bargy Chorus. Man! 1 O"i ve you" The gallant old We~t," !Joys, For thtl boys lII a rcll at 11101"1] from t he Wllere rallied our bravest alld best, SouLh to tbe Nort h, When Ireland was broken and Ltleeding, Led !Jy Kelly, the Boy from Killann !" Htlrrah fOl" the men of the West! ., 'reil me who i~ that giallt with gold The llill-tops with glory were glowing, curling hai r- "I\vas th' eve of a bright Ilarvest day, H e who rid e~ at the head of your band? \IV hen the ships we'd lieen wearily waitinl'{ Seven feet i~ his heigll t, wiL h some inches Sailed into Killala's broad ba.y; to spare, And over the hill~ wellt the slogan, A.nd he looks like a king in command!" To waken ill every breast .. A h, nly lads, thal;'s the Pride of the Bold The fire that has never been qtlenched, ShelmalierH, bo'y s, . 'Mong our greatest of heroes, ~ Man! A IlI ong the. true hearts of the West! Fling yotor lieavers aloft a lld gHe three Chon,s. ringiug chee rs ForJohn Kelly,t.heBoyfl"OlIl Killalln!" Killala was ours ere the lllidlligl lt, And high over Ballina town Enni sco r ' by'~ in Ilames and old Wexfo .. o. Our banners in triumph were waving is 11'011, Before the next stln had gone down. A nd the Barrow to-mOlTOW we'll cro.s ! We gathered, to speed the good work, boy M, On a hill o'er Lhe town we ha.ve planted a 'l'he true men ane"r and afar; gun And history can tell ho,\>, we rOll ted 'I'hat will bat.ter 1.1l e gateways of Ross ! 'l'he redcoats thro' old Castle bar. A.l1 the Forth IlIell and Bargy IlIen IlIarcll ChonUi . o'er the Il eatll, With brave Harvey to lead on the Though all the bright dreamings we van; cheri shed But the foremost of all in the grim gap Weut down in disaBter and woe, of death The spirit of old still is with us Will be K ell.\', Lhe Boy from Killann! 'l'hat never wonld bend to the foe. And COllnacht is ready wh enever The loud-rolling" tuck" of tIle dl"lIJII But the gold sun of Freedom grew Rings out to awaken t Il e ecll oes dar1< ened at RosR, And tell us the 1lI 0rning has comtl. .And it sel. Lty the Sla ll ey's red wlt.ves; And poor Wexford, stripped u9.ked, hung So here's to '~h e gallant old West, bop., high on a cross, Wllicll rallied her hravest and best, And her heart pierced by traitors and When lrel:j,lld was broken and bleeding, slaves! Hurrah, boys! hurrah for the West ! Glory O! Glory O! to her brave sons who oied ~'or the cause of long down-trodden Oh, the dear homeland,ourowJI green ii1le, m8.n ! 'I'hat still, still watches for Freedom's iJlory Ij ; to Monnt Leinster's own dar smile; ling' and pride- From wh ose set lip~ never m urmurll rise, G&Ulltles~ \CeU v, t4e Bey from Killann! Wllere Hope in the Future never die/J. fRq PRIESTS or NINETY-EIGHT. EDWARD MOLLl\Y. REV. F'. M. FURLONG. J. FRAZER . [be story of our native land, from weary .. What use in delaying for vengeance to a.ge to age, . strike? la writ in blood and scalding teara on many Has each bosom a heart ?- has each shoulder a gloomy page: a pike? But darkest, saddest pa.ge of all ia that On, on to Rathangan- 'tis full to the gorge, which tells the fate With the red-handed ruffians of black· Of Erin's noblest martyr-sons, the priests hearted George : of Ninety-Eight. Who stabbed with their bayonets, in searcb of ::-!.ke-heads, The love of father for his fiock of belpless The ~hatch of our cabins, and ti<;ks of our little ones- beds: The love a darling mother wins from true Who lashed us, like hounds, till we reddened and tender sons- our tracks A love that liveth to the end, defying time From triangle to threshold, with blood from and fate- our backs' • With such a love they loved their land. the The cruel de~tro yer 'tis just to destroy priests of Ninety-Eight. What says our young captain, brave Edward Molloy?" To. heaven in ceaseless dirge ascends the mother's wild despair, Six feet to the forehead, with muscle ani. 11mb The wail of sorrowing wife and child, the To match, had made out his commission for maid's unheeded prayer: him· rhe voice of vengeful blood. that cries up But a ;pirit in danger more recklessly brave, from the reeking sod- True men never followed to glory, or grave , Ah! well may ache your Irish he:. ta, 0 Though heart never beat in the breast of • patient priests of God 1 dove, \Vith gentler affection's f.or woman to love ; rhey drew tbe green old banner forth and His wisdom withal, and his rough, hones' flung it to the light, pride ... nd Wexford beard the rallying cry and In the people their tyrants both robbed and gathered in ber might, . belied, .... nd swore around uplifted cross un ~il the Confirmed to the man, wbat he won as • latest breath boy- To foll ow where her s05'ut'c led-to An empire of friendship for Edward Molloy victory or deatb 1 Then forward he strode tothefirst in the van, Tbe S05"'t'c led, the pilcemen fougLt like Laid his arm, ltke a bar, on the breast of lions brought to bay, tl,. An d Wexford proved her prowess well in man. And cried (with an energy deep'ning his tone, many a bloody fray, V/here wronged and wronger, foot te , foot, As if a vex'd prophet's combit)ed with hi. in deadly grip were seen, own)- I< nd England's bated Red went down before .. Return, I command you: there is not , the Irish G reen, chance Of bolding Rathangan, unaided by Frano. Radiant shall their memory live, though Ay, call me a traitor, though traitor oJls rOf: .... dark and sad their doom, 1s belo w me as much as the nails in ID l To brighten in our history a page of woc brogue ; and gloom- But ye shall not be led, our good ca\1 ~ e. I" A p il1a ~ ·fi re to guide a nation strugg ling to destroy, be free And ourselves for a tilly, b y Edward M 01101 !..ir,ng the thorny, sunless path that lead. to (iberty, .. In hurry is ruin- in prudence is power Sure the gains of this day will be lost in u Honour them-the martyred de ..d -- 'he hour, fes.rl ess, good, and wise- Though tbe bosom in heart", and tl:u; Who for its sake in evil days made willing shoul der in pikes, sacrifice Outn umbered the barley In grains and ' Of earthly hope and earthly joy, and d"red spikes : the feloo 's fate For, morning or midnight, tbe baul.. ma, To feed it with their own h""rt'. blood-t he come, priests of Ninety-Eight I I And red-,... al is ready at tap of a dru. 8at friI'.... 04It ·Is DeYer prepared to break out CJ.ltltOLL B.lWR. rU! battle to battle may chorns the shont ; J. K. CASBY. Await bat ,IIM moment, and earth has 110 joy Twas in the town of Wexfora Uke headlnl yOI1" onslaught, for Edward They sentenced him to die; Molloy." Twas in the town of Wexford They built the gallows high; Alas I for his cOIIDsel- their wounds were And there one summer morning, too fresh, When beamed the gentle dawn, And the goad had beeD drieD too deep in Upon that cursed gibbet their flesh. They hung my Carroll Bawn Brave fellows I they mealured the pike with the cun, Oh I he was true and loyal, A.nd Rathangan was theirs, ere the set of Ob I he was proud and fair, the sun. And only nineteen summers "All lost I" he exclaimed, as they rushed Shone on his golden hair; to the town- And when his gallant brothers "Our cause, with the day, will to darkDess Had grasped the pike in hand, go down." Where the green flag streamed tbo But he dashed to the front, for his heart fairest, would not yield He stood for native land. ro his own weighty reasons for quitting the I saw him cross the heather field, With his bold companie, N'hile friends to his country had need to And from the rising hill·side employ He waved his hand to me ; rhe wisdom, or weapon, of Edward Molloy. Then on my wild heart settled A load of woe and pain. Woe-woe to the victors I-the daylight mo bflon I its tbrobbings told roe had sunk- We'd never meet again. The re uted had rallied- the "icton were drunk, They fought the Snon foemen Disordered and scattered-but tyrants may I By Slaney's glancing wave; thank But brutal strength o'erpowered rheir vanity more than the liquor they I The gallant and the brave. drank; . And in the flight which followed rhe sleepers wen butchered-the stragglers I That day of misery were slain, ' Sore wounded he was taken, While searching for weapons to lrapple mo CMflb"U b.l.n mo (;flo.-6o. again; '{ et fierce were tile flashings of courage, Oh, l'~'fliofl seufI! that ever that then I saw the dreadful sight, Had nothing to fire It, but Ilyi"g WII me,,; His locks all dam ply hanging. rill wearied and wounded, a1onf!, to employ His cheeks so deadly white. A. 1C0re of .. Black Horse," .tood brave What wonder if my ringlets Edward Molloy. Were changed from dark to gray, Or if the blessed hand of God rhere ro.. tu RathaDlu a lamp-poll·-but . Had ta'tm my life away. fall 'Twas tu the town of Wexford The powers of my purpose to finish the tale. They sentenced him to die; rhe cnrse of a widow cundemned it to rot, 'Twas in the town of Wexford Itre the tears of her orphans were dried on They built the gallows high. the spot. With form erect and manly, Men showed me that post-and I ..and"red, ADd look of scornful pride, until For Ireland's faith and freedom No marvel s.. ms strang_yet it haunteth My true love nobly died. me still: , For I swore at Its foot that my land should The meadow path is lonely, be free, The hearth is cold and dim, Or tyrants should find such a lamp-post for I And the silent churchyard bloS8011 me ; Blooms softly over him ; Though I listened In silence. and wept when And my heart is ever yearning a boy, For the calm rest comiDg on, Vor the failure aDd fate of brave Edward I When its weary pulse lies sleepillC Idolloy. Beside my Carroll BaWD. BY MEMORY INSPIRED. THE .EIIORY OF THE DEAD. Air- " The Cruiskeen Lawn." I. K. INGBA1I:. By memory inspired Who fears to speak of Ninety.EightP .A nd love of country fired, Who blushes at the name ? The deeds of Men I love to dwell upon ; When cowards mock the patriot's fate, And the patriotic glow Who hangs his llead for shallle P Of my spirit m ust bestow He's all a knave 01' half a slave A tribute to O'Connell that is gone, boys, Who slights his country thus; gone, But a true man, like yon, man, Here's a me mory to the friends that are Will fill your glass with us. gone. We w'ink the memory of the brave In October, 'Ninety-Seven- The faithfnl and the few- May his soul find rest in Heaven Some lie £11.1' off beyond the wave, William Orr to execution was led on : Some sleep in Ireland, too. The jury, drunk, agreed All, all are gone-but still lives on That Irish was his creed,. '1'he fame of those who died. For perjury and threats drove them on, All true men, like you, men, boys, on, . Remember them with pride. "9:ere's the memory of John Mitchel that is gone. Some on the shores of distall t lands 'I'heir weary hearts have laid, In 'Ninety-Eight-themonth Juiy And by the stranger's heedless hands The informer's pay was high, Their lonely graves were made. tVhen Reynolds gave the. gallows brave But though their clay be far away M'Cann. Beyond the Atlantic foam, But M.'Cann was Reynolds' first In true men, like you, men, One could not allay hi. thirst- 'l'heir spirit's still at home. So he brought up Bond and Byrne that are gone, boys, gone. The dust of some is lrish earth, Here's the memory of the friends that Among their own they rest; are gone. And the same land that gave them birth Has caught them to her breast. We saw a nation's tears And we will pray that from their clay Shed for John and Henry Shearss, Full many a race may start Betra',Yed by J ud&ll Captain .Armstrong; Of true men, like you, men, We may forgive, but yet 'l'o act as brave a part. We never can forget The poisoning of Maguire that is gone, They rose in dark and evil days boys,gone; 'l'o rill'ht their native laud; Our high star and true apostle thatis gone. They kmdled here a living blaze How did Lord Edward die P That nothing shall withstand. Like a man, without a sigh; Alas! that Might can vanquish Right, But he left his handiwork on Major Swan! 'l'hey fell and passed away; But Sirr, with steel-clad breast, But true men, like you, men, And coward heart at best, Are plenty here to.day. Left us cause to mourn Lord Edward Then h er o ' ~ their memory- may it be Ula.t is gone, boys, gone. . To us a guidincr light, Here's the memory of the friends that To cheer our strife for liberty, a.re gone. And teach UB to unite ! September, Eighteen and Three, \Through good and ill, be Ireland's stili, Closed this cruel history, Though sad as theirs your fate; When Emmet's blood the scaffold flowed And true men, be you, men, upon. Like those of Ninety.Eight. Oh, had their spirits been wise, They might then realise Their freedom- but we drink to Mitchel No friend beyond her own green shore that is gone, boys, gone. . Can Erin truly own; Here's the memory of the friend!> that Yet stronger is her trust, therefore, are Ilone. In her brave sons alone. BETSY GRAY. I Sbe raised her white and rounded arm As if to ward the dreaded. stroke : rrho aO Ujeot ot [his poem was the d,m g ht er of a prosperolls farmer of th e County OOWII , and was a Vain was her prayer-the weapon fell highly educated young lady, possessed o f many ac And smote her hand off as she spoke. cOlllpHsbments. She fought at the baule of Ba ll ina hincb. and ber tragic stOry. re lated in the (oll o wing Another of the m urderous crew, ball ad, is to ld at many a fi re side in th e N ort h o f A man who came from Anah il t, Ire la nd. The late Mr. W . C . Lyulc. o f Bangor, Co. Dv wn, an accomplis hed and graphic write r, has Laughed a t the brutal deed and cried w ri tten rh e histo ry o f Bets y Gray allJ he r tiOles in .. More rebel blood must yet be spil t ! .. a ll uctavo VOIU IIlC. He d rew a pistol from his belt, Oh, man y :0 noble lad and lass And shot poor Betsy in ber eye; Who joined the fi ght of ni nety·eight She sank upon the heathery mound. To rigb t the cruel wrongs of years, And di~d without a sob or sigh . Did meet with sad and bloody fate. T hat night the murdered three were fou nd On Ednavady's sloping heights, By Matthew Armstrong-then a lad, In J une, llPon the thirteenth day; W bo, q uickly running to h is home, In thousands stood the Patriots bold, I/ Related there his tidings sad. T o fi ght for borne and victory. "'rheh Farmer Orr and Farmer Graham But bra vest of them all, I ween, Brought spade and shovel l u the spot \ Vbo mustered there upon that day, I Tbe three they b uried in one grave And drew the sword for fa therland, Their kindness ne'er sha ll h" forgot. Was lovely, winsome Betsy G r:oy. No tombstone marks that bumble grave F rom Gransha, near to Bangor town, No tree nor shrub is pla nted there; W it h Willie Boal that day she came; And never spade disturbs the spot Her brother, too, was b v her side, Where sleeps t be brave, where rests th. Inspired by patr.ioti c il?me. fair. And when the tide of battle raged, Shame 0 11 the cruel, ruthless hand A nd showers of bullets fell a round, Who 'hullted down to death their pray I Still in the thickest of the fight, And p"by strike the murderous band Was noble-hearted Betsy found. T hat slew the lovely Betsy Gray! When adverse fate witb victory crowned Tbe loyal host upon that day, TH E GREEN FLAG Poor George and Willie joined the fligh t, Air- The C,wn /l bove the ' ~ed . And with them lovely Betsy Gray. M . HOG.-\ N, THE BARD OF THO \ fOND Al ong the L isburn road they fled , (Written on seeing one hoisted in U merick. ) Pursuing Yeomen keeping watch ; Flag of the Brave! I see thee wave upon Then [3etsy drew her Il' leam ing sword our walls again ! And hid it in a farmhouse thatcb. And honour'd be the heart ann band tha. She reached the vale of Ballycreen- raised thy spotless green! Her friends some distance were behind The band that placed tbee proudly there And quickly did sbe look around woul d do a bolder deed, A quiet hiding place to find. T he heart tha t loves thy native green, in its defence would bleed! Bu t, ere 'twas found , she heard a c ry, Alas ! too well she knew the sound; F lag of our land, tho' scorn'd a nd bann "l, !-Ier brother and her sweetheart true a nd su nk in dQst thou art, Had by the Yoeman band been found I T h y fadeless green is woven wit h life in every Irish heart ; Then from the grassy vale she sprang Our fathers' blood had nourished it- our This beauteous, noble, fearless maid mothers' tears had wet- And back she ran with boundin g step, And, wi th our love, 'twill float above a That she might see.k to give her aid. gloriJus Nation yet! Ah, what a sight then met her gaze! 1 hate the Saxon pirate-red- it speaks of Her Willie weltering in his gore, chains and graves, And George, her brother, by his side, It flaunts above our proud old towers and Pleading for li fe in accen ts sore. tell s us we are slaves; A Yoeman raised his sword to strike, It tell s us that our Isle shall be the home of As Betsy to the reSClle ran- death and tears, .. Oh, spa re my brother's life!" she cried, 'Till in its stead on Irish walls our native .. Oh, spare bim, if you be a man ! .. I, Green appears I --~------TH E FO RGING OF THE PIKES. .. Oh I woo::ld Lord E d ward now was h ('f~ Those keen-edged blades 'to see J. 1( . CA~KY . Thank God, we're left the true hearts yt''' rtrn Maher's gone across the hill, To make ould Ireland free." And keeps a steady eye long the road to \Vexford town, Sweet Maureen's milking of the cows For fear of tout or spy, Right straight before the door, And l\1aureen has tbe steel within, The stars come peeping frum the heavenA. Tbe handles, loo, have come, The hare sleeps on the moor- So let us raise the sled!(e on hig h And true hearts cross the hill witb Tim And strike the sharp point borne That lonely summer night, The boys are bound for Wexford town, And fasten to the handles long And shortly so shaH we ; The blades so keen and bright. Uut now our trade's to make the bl ..nr. And Shemus shook bold Phelim's hand T hat sets ould Tre lann free. .. I 'm glad, my boy, to see, We've done ou r work so well to-day Tbey entered in with li ghtsom ~ Ireil,l. To w ake ould Ireland free." T heir faces chesnut brown; You could not find two stouler hearts From Cork to Dublin town. FROM DUBLIN TOWl! From Cork to Dublin town, and tbenc. Acl"OSS to Ga!~ay Bay. In aH the land do either han I, Un 179.5, after the close of the lasorrecEton severaJ United lrisllUlen left Dublin and JOillt:d 'M JolhU'1 That sultry summer day. Dwyer tn tbe Mount"ius.) "The sun is burning, Aidan, W e'U ligbt our fi re with glec Twenty men from Dublin town, For our's the fi re that can't expire Riding on the mountain side, W hen making Irdand free." fea rless of the S:l.Xc,o frown T wenty brothers true and' trien And Shemus bared hi, brawny arms, Blood flows in the ci t 1 st reets, And on the strong sledge leant. T here the Green is ly ing low, \""hile quick and fa st the bellows' blast Here the emerald stanrial'd greets 1 010 the pile was sent. I:) c:> alike of friend ana {oe. Ho I ho I- the roar : ho! ho I- tbe blaze. H ow it tears upwards tbrough ! Fly the city, brothers tried, " Now, Phelim, for th<: first strong stroke, l oin us on the mountain .. id" . The second one to you." Where we've Englaod's po'vc; defied Poised is the hammer in his hand, T"enty men from Dublin town H is brown eye blazing free- Twenty men from Dnblin town, Dong, dong, dong, dong. .. God bless to Full of love and full of hate. work Oh! our chief, onr Tone is down, T hat makes ould Ireland free." Soul of God, avenge his fate 1 Joy i is whene'er we meet How roerril y the fire did roar, Redcoats in the mountain track, As if its work it knew; Ah! as deer they must be fleet The anvil, how its music came; if they get to Dublin back. The hellows how it blew., "Oh! would tbat every stroke ve give Fly the city, brothers tried, W as on a Saxon's head." Join us on the mountain sid,,; " Avic, machree, don't say a word, Wbere we've England's power nefi,.? W e both are not yet dead." '!"wenty men from Dublin town And Maureen stood within the smoke, Her eyes shone merrilie, Twenty men from Dublin town, For every stroke she knew wai given Every night around the fire To set ould Ireland free. Brimming methers toss we down To our Captain, Michael Dwyer . •,U .lnt::e, Michael, brave and true, Dong, dong-for ma ny and many an hour Then there rings tbe wild" Hurrah' . A pile of bright blades shine: As we drink, dear land, to you, The evening wind comes from the bill, The sun's on the decline; etJle, ru,lnt::e 5ML 50 bJl.;.t The dew is on the summer grasi, Fly tbe city, brothers tried, Yet still the anvil rings loin us on the mountain side ; A tunc that oft a lesson taugbt Where we've England's power defied To despot queens and kings. T wenty mc:n from Dubliu tO WD THE MEN OF '98. THE CROPPY BOY,
tI .AIGKKN. " CARROLL M4LONE. (Modern Street Ballad, 1897.) Air--ColI.". Og " StDi,.. Air- Iris" Molly O. .. Good men and true I in this heuse who dwell, Tnle patriots of Erin's Isle come listen to To a stranger bu. !t,t C1'om -lhon,,1' c1'er n. st•• nnc4,1I e1Rse n. se.4ISe. m.1' c1'6n4n 'Outl4C m1l4-",U8, k T' io&u ~1' 'Ocur ' S~crf)ell1't~ te Se"S~" .4'r tIi co.t\'ce rte4s 4S 'Oe4\.\.1'4-o m.c-.40.... S.;.'n U.-C.t.r.'S (U teo ") : te st4.n·e'T'Se n4 5841..4'Se I .slIr .1' no. C1l1' ' "5._-6.t,s t_ U,tt'4m l e 5 \'4.n-6'1'Se n. 5e4\.4'5e I m.c-u,tt,.,m (u.n Ce,tce.c ") 6 '01111- Le 5\.4,n.e'1'Se n4 584\.4'5e I 5·1'&4.". .d.'r 1'l1 co.\.tce rt84S 4S 'Oe4\.t1' ... -6 le S\'4.n-e.I'Se 114 5e4\.4'5- I fT.lo II lb. G ..ll. InallallOll of J. K. C...,'I I" LAo ") poem, Ibe " RI.ln, of Ibe Moon," by Ibe lale t.\.t, co'r .n Cff'Ot4 to"nlh.,I' tlotlDCUllbed IrI.b IObolar, Mr. Wllllam Wllllaml, of Dungarvaa. Hlo friend, Ibe lale Mr. John FI.mlnl, Se4r ". f14.1I114 "04". t:e4nn, ..,111 Ibl work 10 Ibe editor of Ibe Gaello deparlmenl ' 5 41' n'Oft-tlfldc4c st"""~1' 1I.,ne .f lb... IrI.bman," In wbleb paper II wao firsl prlnled .d.S fo\.\.4';'.,n Or 4 SCU1I1I I 'a November, 1878. It 11 a most valuable aontrlba· "b4r 'Oo'n n.';'4,"O 'r '00 tllCC "4 b1'4.tC.' " d.D to oor modern Gaello literature, and It I. nol to. Se11ln Rors-C4t41 bIl4.1.. f'I.r 6 I . uab to oay Ibat It I. worthy of tbe original, and tbat It nil be lung as sweetly 10 tbe old familiar .. marab '0.4 te h6'I'11In I '0.4 le S40'1'fI I I". Ion.... Mr. Flemlng bad himself attempted Ihe reuc I 'Oi\.·6'1'5e Se4t ". ~e I .. aollatlon, and most of the equlvaleot word. be had o I '01\.-6'1'Se se~t n. ~_ I Ibo.eo for the purpose were adopled by Mr. Wllllamo, o I 'Olt-e'f'se 5e.t n4 R.e I ..be loaa.ded la ...rllfy\.De It and maltla, It .. sllll_ abl •. "] '0 •• \.e h6,f""" I '0 •• 1... S40' I're I F~C I "01t-6'1'se 5"1.. n4 ~. I " Inn'r '04m, t;e4S~'" UI-te.1's.,t, r.t '00 tll.'O.'1' cU5.,nn • te.t I " m 4.t ~ 'Oc1'e4r 41' fOIl .. ~ b4"b4, 1I4 , 6'rc I e'rc I tern' rs-u-t, • &1I.C •• tt," .4'r S,-6 Cf' 5 • 'Ot;II.C,rn Cf'6,t, d.'r • te.c. t.rc. ce,t,- '041' mo t.l..,;, I nl n.l..1' t11ln t 4f>4'f'C 41' re4n "1'It'4')4'" ,,' Ninety-eight." ' Ir r14'O OT''OII.ste 4f' 'Oc40't"5, I m4~t4.n 5,,,n '0'.1.1' nstellr.u fe11l te b1"5, bll.,)e \.e '0.4 c.l.''O r6r 41' d.'r n. pld-6e tle.t le ce,le Cl'ol1)te \. ".'Ot'e \.40C'il4 51'0.,)e, tl'14ttf4') 'n4 1'.4n 'Oo'n lh.c.'fI le st4.n·"1'Se n. 5e.t.'Se I " te st4,n-6'1'se n4 5e4t4'Se I le st4tn-".t'Se n4 5e~t4'Se. le st4tn-"1'5e n4 5e4\.4'Se , le 5t4.n-e'f'tie " .• 5e4t4'Se I .4'r n4 pidue tle.t te ce.te le st4.n-e.t'S. n4 5e4\.4'5e I tl"4ttf.-6 'n4 II'~" "Oo'n ';'4C.,1' le s\.4,n-e'1'Se n4 584t~'Se , le S\'.tn-e.flSe ". 5e.\.4'5e I " Inn'r '04m, $e4S4111 UI-te41'S4.t, C4 mbe.u b ••tt'I1S.u n4 &fe41' 'Ocf'elln'P" MOTES. , Inr "n cre4n-.l..c co'r ~n crf'eu, 'r \.e'1'1·4.tn.'O 'Ou.nn .fldon. ~'1'se, risin~ (6'1" 5, ria); '1fI5e tu Se4· Se."nce41' fU4r \..tI 4n Rors-c~t.. l4'Se, risUl« of the m_ ; ~t'Se 4m.c. liP ; more usuall,. r~l1'O ru"r. in refereoce to .. In tbe ould spot by the river, the pipes; ~S re1t1m. singing. Right well known to you and me; One word more- for signal token, po"t:, tuoe; .. m.i'flreAt ." marchiog. vVhistle up the marchin' tunc. '0 '", .. ,,,. watched; '\$ r "dfle. watching. With your pike upon your shoulder. C!'om-mon"" . deep, murmuring sound. By the risin' of the moon." Ce.st.... c (ee.. \. t .... c) borne, family , her.rth. By the risin' of the moon. e"on"n ... croon." h umming . By the risin' of the moon. With your pike upoo your shoulder, Oun-r1-oe (~.~. and pi. mn1..-ri'li .. ), a By tbe risin' of the moon . .... oman of the sil k., or fairy-bost ; tbe Out from many a mud-wall cabin " banshee;" U40,ne r iue. the fairies. Eyes were watching through that night : F' .... nn ..... champions. (/arriors. ~!aoy a manly breast was throbbing Ofl6e .. c (no me'" ,se). standard, fla~ . For the blessed warning light. Ou,u .. (b .... o' -oe), thank!; bu,ue"c. thank · Murmurs passed along the valleys. Like the banshee's lonely croon. ful ; bu lue .... c.r, gratitude. And a thousand blades were flashing U.,ne (u",tne). green (coloured or dyed) . At the risio' of the moon. Folt.... m .. '". fluttering. fiyi ng. At the risin' of the moon. luCt: n" bfl .... 'tee. people of treachery, At the risin ' of the moon. traitors ; bl' .... t .... uOI". spy. o And a thousand blades were fiashln@ At the risin ' of the moon. t> .. nb ... one of the ancient names of Ire- land. There. beside the singing river. That «ark mass of men was seen C"elt. weak. broken down (e"elt.l .. :;). Far above tbe shining weapons n6c..... ninety; oce "·r ro6t .... In' a ce: " 11 Hung their own beloved Green. not .. ,u. ninely-eight; oce mbl,,,"un6 nOC61>. I.. Deatb to eV'r, foe aod traitor! oloety-eight years.' nQc ..... though (l ew 0\.80- 1 Forward I strike the marchin' tune. o 0 Aod hurrah. my boys. for freedom! le.te. IS ID use in books. Tbe preseot 'Tis the risiD' of the moon." expression. occ-ueu,s 4f1 celtfle 1" <':1-:>. is as 'Tis the risin' of the moon. roundabout as the French equIvalent. 'Tis the risin' of the moon, fJlatre-lJillgl-Mx-huit (four ;score- eighteen). And burrah. my boys. for freedom ! The ancient Celts are believed to have 'Tis the risin' of the moon. reckoned chiefly by scores, and relics of Well, they fonght for poor old Ireland this system exist in the French !lnd Irish ).00 fllll bitter was their fate languages. (Oll. wk::.t glorious pride and sorrow Fills th e name of Ninety-Eigh t!) m 6C .... '1' (m .... c .... 'fle). field, plain. battle Yet, thenk God. e'en still are beating field. H ea rts in manhood's burning noon. r~l .... n, track. foots tep, path. "/bo would fo llow in their footsteps At the Ti sin' of the moon I At the risin' of the moon. THB RISING OF THE 1I00N, At the risin' of the moon. Who would follow in their fo otstep. J . K _ CASEY. At the risin' of the moon. -, Oh. then. tell me. Shawn O'Farrell. Tell me why you hurry so ? .. BE PREPARED I .. Hush. mtt bouchal, hush and listen;" And his cheeks were all aglow : JOHN FRAHCJS O'OONNELL. .. Wbat did J do to live I W ell , Sarah, YOll shall bl .. .. I bear ordbers kom the captain Of course I turned bedge·teacber, and taught fo r . Get you ready quick and soon; crown a year ; For the pikes must be together God bless tbe boys, tbey liked me, and ",ben th At tbe risin' of the moon." weather was fair, J b~d two-and-twenty rebels out In tbe apen ..... At the risin' of the moon. .. ' What is the curse of Europe I ' • England I ' ,h. At the risin' of the moon, lads wl)uld cr y. For the pikes must be together I Wbat Sb 0Uld we do for Ire land ? I ' Be ready to do At the risin' of the moon. and d, el ' , W hat if we cannot fight ?' an d tben th~ ....:ack crow. hear.. H Oh. then. tell me. Shawn O·Fa.rrell. Blown tluough tbelr dusky rookerle. tbe anow!" Where the gath'rin' is tet be? .. • &e I"'epared I ... - 13 --·------rr·------4 NA nON ONCE AGAIN. I Another Clare i. here to leaJ, THOM AS n AVIS. The worthy son of such a breed ; T be French expect some famous deed When boyhood's fi re was in my blood, When Clare leads on hi s bold dragoon, I read of ancient fr eemen, Our colonel comes frol" Brian's race, For G reece and Rome who b. o,vely stood, His wounds are in his breast and face, Three h un dred men and three men. T he be"t1n" bM:5'''t, is still his place, And then I prayed I yet might see The fo remost of his bold dragoon ~, O ur fe tteT> rent in twain, Viva la, tbe new brigade ! Etc. A nJ I reland, long a province. oe A nation once " gai n. There's not a man in squadron here Was ever known to fl inch or fear: And, (rom that time, through wildest woe, T hough fi rst in charge and last in rer~ That hope bas shone, a far light: H a ve ever been Lord Clare's dragoon. ; N or could love's brightest summer glow But, see! we'll soon have work to do, O utshine that solemn starligbt: _ To shame our boasts, or prove them true, It seemed to watch above my head For hi ther come the English crew I n ror um, field. and (ane ; T o sweep away Lord Clare's drag"on •. Its angel voice sang round my bed, Viva la, for Ireland's wrong I E tc. ' 0 A nati on once agai n." Oh ! comrades, think how I reland pines, It wh ispered, too, that " Freedom's ark H er exiled lords, her rifled shri nes, And service high and holy, H er only hope the ordered lines, Would be profaned by feelings dt;'k And bursting charge of Clare's dragoon. And passions vain or lowly : T hen fli ng your green fl ag to the sky, .. For freedom comes from God's right hand, Be Limerick your battle-cry, . A nd needs a godly train : And charge, till blood floats fetlock-high And righteous men must make OUI land Around the track of Clare's dragoons. A nation once again," Viva la, the new brigade ! Etc. So, as I grew from boy to man, I bent me to that bidding THE WEST'S ASLEEP. My spirit of each selfish plan When all beside a Yigil keep, And cruel passion ridding ; The W"st's asleep, the W est's asleep For, thus I hoped some day to ahl Alas ! and well may E ri n weep O h I can such hope be vain ? When Connacht li e. in slun,ber dee?, When my dear conntry shall he m .Je There lake and plain smile fair and free. A natioll once again. 'Mid rocks- their guardian chivalry. Sing, oh ! let man learn liberty CLA~E'S DRAGOONS . From crashing wind and lashing sea. ,Vhen, OD Ramiliies' bloody fi eld T hat cha i nl~ ss wave and lovely land The ballled FrencR were fort ed to Yl elrl, Freedom and Nlltionhood dt)mand- The vietor SUOD backward ree.Nd . Be sure the g reat God never planned Before the charge of Clare's ·drag< ')"" For slumbering slaves a home so g rand. Tbe fla~s we conquered in that fray. And long a brave and haughty race, Look lone in Ypres' choir, they say, Honoured and sentinelled the place: We'll win then~ company to-day, Sing, oh I not e'en their sons' di"grace Or brayely t!lie lil<.c Clare's dragoons, Can quite destroy their glory's trace_ Viva la, fo r IreJud's ",rong I I For oft en, in O 'Connor's van, ViYa la , for Ir@IaGd's right! 1, T o triumph dashed each Connacht clan. Viva la., in battle throog, And fleet as deer the Normans ran For a Spo.nu A "t ~ed and sabr~ b ri ght! I T hrough Corsliabh pass and Ardrahan. rhe I,rave .,Id lord di~ near the li ght, And later times saw deeds as br:lve, But, (or eael. drop \lte lost tnat ni.gh' . And glory g uards Clanricarde'i g rave-- A Saxon oav1liliu shall bite Sing, oh I they died their land to save T he eest before Lord Oa«'s dragoon,. At Aug hrim's slopes a nd Shannon's way· for n« yer, when Qur spun; wwe set, Then if when all a vigil keep, A Ad ,, ~v..,. , " ·ob e,, CAlr s:lbres met, The W est's as l ~e p , the West 's asleep; C0111d ws t~8 SQxon .oleliers get Alas I and well may E rin weep T t) stand too ~ k of Clare's dragoo n... T ha t Connacht lies in slumber deep. Whoa la, U, e /II ew l!of;gade ! Ilut hark! some voice li ke thunder spake, Vi.. · ,. la, t he "Id OlO ll, too I .. The \Vest's awake! the 'Vest's a\... k ~ ! Viva la, the rMe shaH iit mE PJ.TRIOT KOTJlEIl, ".S. It. I. O'DOHK RTY. .. NKD OP raa HILL.' .. Come, tell us the name of the rebeUy crew Ak-Ctspp. Hill. Who lifted the pike OD the Curragh with you; Come, tell us the treason, and then you'll be Ho! cease our mourning, for borne retumlnl/ free, . Are brave hearts burning for work to Or right quickly you'll swing from tile high do ; gallows tree." The boys are thronging to right a wronging, With a homesick longing, deep, strODe, .. <1le .. 'Tls holy, , mo Cf1 01'll e ! 0 it f611 UpOD a forelt of bright pikes III war He flung h.imaelf upon tbe sod, be looked up Ilk. ,heen, in t~e air- n u t were glinting on the hill-lOP neath A cross irom out his bosom drew, no'" the flag of gold and green. heaving broAd and bare; A tear fell cn the holy sign- his comrade" And up the dewy beat her bands of men hA nd he took- were marching on, "Sleeps sbe in holy earth ?" he cried, with All pouri ng like a thousand streams to where stern, unbending look. that banner shone; And riding here, and riding there, with .. Yes, yes- at dawning of the light I placecj hangIng hridal rein, her in the grave, Frieze-coated horsemen guarded all the Beside the old brown abbey WAll o'erloo l< · to&, hers to the plain. ing narrOW's wave." .. Tbank God I-and now my murdered kin, Anon a group with laughter hoarse were my olltraged , butchered love, sharpening their blades, I swear to have red blood for blood, by Him 'nd ol uers tyin~ iB dleir hilts the flashing wao reigns above, green coekades; But one among tliiB't tRUltilude &tl!l0d silently .. I swear to hunt yonr murderer>, by nighl alone a.n d open day, 'Twas Patriok Roe O 'BreOOla'B, the young Until their blood smokes in the air as thid horseman c f DunTcne. aB ocean spray," 'O'Breno!Ln t"- 'twas bis kinsman Sj'loke He hssed the cross, then backed his horse, O'Rya , THE ERIN'S PRIDE SONG BOOK A Collection of the most Popular Songs, Ballads, . and Recitations by Irish Writers THE ERIN'S , HOPE SONG BOOK A Collection of the best Patriotic Songs, Ballads, and Recitations ' THE ERIN'S CALL SONG BOOK "A Collection or Songs and Recitations in Irish and English for Concert or Ceilidh THE ERIN'S FLAG SONG BOOK " A Collection of Songs and Recitations in Irish and English for Home and Platform The words of ," Eileen age," "My Irish Home," "That Tumble-down Shack in' Athlone," "Because I Love You So," etc. , are given in tbe la.st two 'Books, and the translations into I rish include " Oft in the Stilly Night," "The Snowy-Breasted Pearl," "She is Far from the Land," " The Risin' of the Moon," etc. Demy 8vo., Coloured Wrapper, Price 4d. net. each. • NUGENT AND CO., PUBLISHERS, 45 MIDDLE ABBEY , ST. , Dt0 BLIN. "IRISH" SONG SHEET SERIES. COMPLETE IN TWELVE NUMBERS. THESE SHEETS CON'fAIN A VARIED SELECTION 011' PATRIOTIC, SENTIMENTAL, LOVE, AND HUMOROUS SONGS AND RECITATIONS By Iriah Writers . Severa.l Songs in Gaelic are included in the Series, and a number of the items have been specially revised by thc writers. Amongst the Contents are:- J 1. IRISH IRELAND. 7. IRISH BARD. Thirty.two Countiee, Slan le Maig,.'l'he Irish J auutinK _Car, Snowy.Breasted Donovans, '1'he Jackets Green, Myles Pearl, In My Wild :M:ountain Valley. the Slasher, For the Green, &c. West's Asleep, Rose of 'l'ralee, &c. 2. IRISH HOME. J S. IRISH HARP. Little Mal:{ Cassidy, 'l'hirteenth I,ock, .Harp or Lion P 'fhe Leprechaun, Pnrty Phaudrig Uro1100re, Carrigdhoun,Irish l Yolly Brallaghan, Oft in the Stilly War Song, Fineen the Rover, &0. I Night, Wedding A bovein Glenoree,&c.. 5. IRISH FIRESIDE. . -9. IRISH LINNET. Men of t,he West, She is far from the I Jerry Connor's F orge, Eily Mavour. Land, Old Rusti,c Bridge .1lY the Mill, neen, Lark in Clear Air, Cottage Nea.. Old Ireland's Hearts and Hands, &c. Rochelle, It is a Charming Girl, &C. 4. IRISH POPULAR. 10. IRISH EMERALD. The Man from God.Knows.Where, The Harp in the Air, N orah O'Neill, Light Ould Plaid Shawl, Moon Behind the of Other Days, An Irishman's Toast, Hill, The Exile's Return, &0. A Father's Love, Eileen Alannah, &0. 6. IRISH CONCERT. 11. IRISH STANDARD. When Shall the Day Break in Erin? Maid of the Sweet Brown Knowe, My Paudh O'Donoghue, Shane's Head, Heart's First Home, Love's Old Song. Love Thee Dearest, Slievenamou, &c. Tone's Grave, Irishman's Home, &C. I. IRISH MINSTREL. 12. IRISH DIAMOND. Green Isle of Erin, Kerry Dance, Her. Kelly of Killann, I Know lily Love by 8elf and Myself, Mairin, Return from his Way of Walkinlb,. Patriot Mother, the Thirteenth Lock, Bantry Bay, &c. I'm Alone, MichaellJwyer, &c. WE~ PRINTED ON GOOD PAPER. PRICE 2d. each. NUGENT " CO •• Publishers, 45 Middle Abbey St, Dublin.