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 type on good pape~ Price 6d. net. NUGENT AND CO., PUBLISHERS, 45 MIDDLE ABBEY ST.. DUBLIN. $ ' . ( 1 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, .