FLAMING O'FLANAGANS.-Continued. The tazing, the cursing, the shouting, the shooting, Wid Irish Miss Murphys and English Miss Bulls. The loves and the whisky, and the devil knows what; And the dances that we whacked black and blue like the devil, And the spalpeens we floored at the very first shot. O'Brien he went through the world without lying, And he beat the Danes, a whole score of them flat; Have fought in each battle, all the way round; Do you see how I'm laughed at by all those queer vagabones, MOLLY MULDOON. SWEET jewel, my heart has gone out of my keepin', An' I am wantin' it back wid a slice of your own; For I drame through the night, when I ought to be sleepin', Ov the purtiest girl in the country of Tyrone. 'Tis yourself, an' you know it, more shame you won't show it, But I'll list by my faith for a dashing dragoon, If you don't quit your jokin', which is more than provokin', There's Shusey Magee, drinks her tay out of chaney, An', troth, if I liked-no, I needn't say more. An' the music you'd make wid your nogginan' spoon, Would be sweeter to me if I slept in the ditches, An' scraped the same pot wid you, Molly Muldoon. Och! Molly, achorra, don't kill me wid sorrow, I'm awake on my feet wid the weight of my woes, My shouldin's neglected an' famine expected, My plow in the meadow a roost for the crows. An' little it matters, my poor heart in tatters, For a corpse on the board I'll be stretched for you soon; Or wid ribbons all flyin', I'll laugh while you're cryin', Then wed where you will, cruel Molly Muldoon. I've a heart true an' tender to love you forever, Five cows an' a cowlt, an' a guinea to spare; Not to mention my faction, the soul of a ruction, Mayrone can't they scatter the fun ov a fair. But long-legged Mullen and crooked-eyed Cullen, They brag of your smiles, but I'll alter their tone; For there's murther a-brewin' an' all of your doin', I'm losin' my sowl for you, Molly Muldoon. But I don't care a rap if I never see glory, He's not in shoe leather who'll take you from me; For I know in your heart there's a spark for me burnin', 'Tis a fortnight to Lent, an' you'll never repent, PROUDLY the note of the trumpet is sounding, On, every mountaineer, Rush to the standard of dauntless Red Bonnought and Gallowglass, Throng from each mountain pass, On for old Erin-O'Donnell abu! Princely O'Neill to our aid is advancing With many a chieftain and warrior-clan; A thousand proud steeds in his vanguard are prancing 'Neath the borders brave from the banks of Many a heart shall quail Deeply the merciless tyrants shall rue; Grasp, every stalwart hand, Hackbut and battle-brand, OULD IRELAND SO GREEN. MICKEY DOOLAN was one of them boys as went fighting, CHORUS. There's Billy O'Mulligan, Jimmy O'Sullivan, And Bobby O'Ryan and Shemus O'Brien, Well, we meets Danny Looran, and says to him: " Danny, When they'd done with each other, they sat down to rest, And they met Larry Moore walking calm and serene; Well, they got in a tangle and hit right and left, And Michael from both of them made the blood pour! And rolled in a ditch-for ould Ireland so green.-CHORUS. Now some more sons of Erin were fighting for freedom, Pay them all back the deep debt so long But they oon fished 'em out, and for love of Home Rule, boys, due; Norris and Clifford well Can of Tir-Conaill tell Onward to glory-O'Donnell abu! Sacred the cause that Clan-Conaill's defending, Ruthless the ruin the foe is extending, Fight the old fight again, They gave 'em a thrashin' before they were dry! And they murdered the keeper and smoked his tobaccy, They'd just one more scrimmage before they wor partin', Sons of Tir-Conaill, all valiant and true; Danny Looran forgot where he left his right eyeball, Erin's avenging steel, Strike for your country-O'Donnell abu! And Larry Moore's face wasn't fit to be seen, And Mickey wor tired, and wouldn't go walking, So rode home on a shutter for ould Ireland so green.-CHORUS. PADDY MAGEE'S DREAM. JOHN BULL he was an Englishman, He tramped along for miles and miles, Till he fell in with an rishman, Good morning, Pat, said John to him, Have you got any money about you? Says Pat: It's the only thing I'm wanting, For I haven't got a rap. Then they overtook a Scotchman, Who, like them, was out of work; Can you lend me a shilling, Scotty? Said the Englishman, I three-pence have, Just buy three-pence worth of oat-meal, Now I think we had better buy a loaf, From yonder purling stream, And the loaf shall be his in the morning, Who has the greatest dream. The Englishman dreamt by the morning, For ten years digging a turnip up, At last they got the turnip up, Said the Scotchman: I've been dreaming For fifty years making a boiler, What was it for? said the Englishman, It was made of copper, said Scotty, Och! said Paddy, I've been dreaming I dreamt I was in a hay-stack, I dreamt that you and Scotty was there, As true as I'm an oaf; By the powers! I dreamt I was hungry, So I got up and eat the loaf. PADDY MILES.-Contiuued. I worked in the bogs and behaved, as I thought, Who cut off one of the tails of Pat Flanigan's coat? And drank all the wine, blood and ounds, what a sin! When Miss Fagan, they tried to eject her? I trotted to Dublin to look for a place, Tho' they'd ne'er saw me there, faix, they all knew my face; The jackeens kept calling meself to annoy, There goes Paddy Miles, he's a Limerick boy! Till I flourished my sprig of shillelah, In short, before long to this country I came, If my name wasn't changed I was likely to starve, So Paddy O'Connor it is made, sir, THE EXILES OF ERIN. GREEN were the fields where my forefathers dwelt, O! Erin, mavourneen! slan leat go brah! I look back with regret, and my heart strings are torn, O! Erin, mavourneen! slan leat go brah! With principles pure, patriotic and firm, O! Erin, mavourneen! slan leat go brah! To my country attached, and a friend to reform, O! Erin, mavourneen! slan leat go brah! I supported old Ireland-was ready to die for it, If her foes c'er prevailed I was ell known to sigh for it; But hark! I hear sounds, and my heart is strong beating, We have numbers, and numbers do constitute pow'r- FLAG OF OUR LAND. LANIGAN'S BALL.-Continued. Myself, of course, got free invitations For all the nice boys and girls I'd ask, And in less than a minute the friends and relations Were dancing away like bees round a cask. Miss O'Hara, the nice little milliner, Tipped me the wink to give her a call, And soon I arrived with Timothy Glenniher FLAG of our Land, that oft has streamed through battle's lurid blaze and smoke, When the long ranks were wrapped in flame, and in the shock the legions broke, Flag of our Land! for you, for us they say the sun of hope has set, We give them back the craven lie! we're shattered, but not beaten yet. There was lashins of punch and wine for the The Norman trampled on your folds, the Norman trampled on us, ladies, Potatoes and cakes and bacon and tay, From "The Harp that once thro' Tara's To "Sweet Nelly Gray" and "The Ratcatcher's Daughter," All singing together at Lanigan's ball. They were startin' all sorts of nonsensical dances. Turning around in a nate whirligig; But Julia and I soon scatthered their fancies, And tipped them the twist of a rale Irish jig. Och mavrone! 'twas she that as glad o' me; We danced till we thought the ceilin' would fall (For I spent three weeks in Burke's Academy Learning a step for Lanigan's ball). too; And Saxon hate and native guile did all the wreck that Hell could do. Not coward-like, but wild for fight, have we and they in conflict met, We've borne the loss for centuries; repulsed, but never beaten yet. This isle is ours, its plains and hills, from center to the utmost sea, We tread its soil, we speak its tongue, we dearly pray to see it free. Patience and faith shall do the work, and earnestness shall win the debt; Hark you who still have hearts to toil; we're scattered, but not beaten yet. While in this Irish Land there lives the spirit of an Irish race, The pluck that smiles at worst reverse and meets disaster face to face, By Heaven and all the shining stars, around the throne of Godhead set, The boys were all merry, the girls were all The future teems with hope for us; we're watchful, but not beaten hearty, Dancin' away in couples and groups, McCarty He put his right foot through Miss Halloran's hoops. The creature she fainted, and cried "Millia murther!" She called all her friends and gathered them all. Ned Carmody swore he'd not stir a step further, But have satisfaction at Lanigan's ball. In the midst of the row Miss Kerrigan fainted Her cheeks all the while were as red as the rose Some of the ladies declared she was painted, She took a small drop of potheen, I suppose. He tore the left leg from under the table Oh, boys, there was the ructions Myself got a lick from big Phelim McHugh, But I soon replied to his kind introductions, And kicked up a terrible hullabaloo. Old Shamus the piper had like to be strangled, They squeezed up his pipes, bellows, chanters and all; The girls in their ribbons they all got entangled, And that put an end to Lanigan's ball. yet. "Perish the past!" the patriot cried; ay, let the mournful ages go, With bitter feud, the curse of hate, they've made our heritage of woe. Into the darkness of our doom a ray of nobler glory let; Down with the feuds of vanished years, tney waste our breath, they break our strength; A nobler creed, a nobler life, 'tis ours to preach and fill at length. Flag of our Land, float high and fair; they lie who say our sun has set; God and the future still are ours; we live, and are not beaten yet. THE FELON'S LOVE. "GRACIE O'DONNELL-Oh! why sit you there, "You have eyes like the starlight on Nephin's gray peak, "I wait not a lover to come from Knockbwee, |