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SONGS AND BALLADS OF IRELAND.
MY GOOD-LOOKING MAN.
COME, all you pretty maids, of courage brave and true,
I will teach you how to happy live, and avoid all troubles, too;
When I was sixteen years of age, a damsel in my prime,
My wish, it seems, too soon I got, for one Sunday afternoon, As home from church I gaily tripped, I met a fair gossoon; He looked so fine about the face, to win him I made a plan, And that very day I set my cap for that good-looking man.
Again, by chance, as out I stepped to take a pleasant roam,
He said to me, as on we walked: My dear and only love,
That night was fixed for us to wed-he bid me have all cheer-
It was scarce a week, when married I was, one Sunday afternoon, The day went by, the night came on, off went the honeymoon; My gent walked out-so did I-for to watch him was my plan, When soon a flashy girl I saw with my good-looking man.
At once a thought came in my head to entrap my faithless swain,
They kissed and toyed, and tales of love to her he then did tell,
The clock was just striking ten, when my gentleman he walked in, I gently said: My William, dear, where hast thou so long been? I have been to church, my love, said he-Oh! this I could not
So the rolling pin I did let fly at my good-looking man.
I blacked his eyes, I tore his hair, in ribbons I tore his clothes,
Now, you married folks, take my advice, high and low degree,
A CUP O' TAY.
OCH! prate about your wine,
From Ireland to Bombay!
Wid a gintale cup o' tay!
Is the darlint in the thray.
Wid a gintale cup o' tay!
OH THE MARRIAGE.-Continued.
We meet in market and fair
We meet in the morning and nightHe sits on half of my chair,
And my people are wild with delight. Yet I long through the winter to skim, Though Owen longs more, I can see, When I will be married to him,
And he will be married to me.
IRISH eyes of honest blue
With their ways of playful tease.
Irish smile, so free of guile.
Irish hearts-so bless'd with love
Irish wit, beyond compare
Irish grief, so weird and wild,
Irish homes-ye gems of grace, Where the light of mirth and prayer, Fitful, gleam from each pure face, Round its parent fond and fair.
Irish curses, long and loud, Fright the tyrant on his throne, Blind the cruel and the proud, Blight the traitor all disown.
Irish hope, though gray with years,
Irish heroes fought and bled.
Irish faith, shines undefiled, Fervor-blessing every clime; Christ in dying on thee smiled, And its halo hallows time.
Irishmen, God bless you all, Stand together hand in hand; Hate's misrule must surely fall, And God bless old Ireland.
He was not long in college when the Rev. Bishop Brown
He says: "Young man, where are you from? come, tell me your name."
"I am from the County Armagh, they call me Tom O'Neil; My mother she is a widow of a low degree;
She has done her best endeavors to make a priest of me."
"As Thomas O'Neil, then, is your name," the Bishop he did say;
Go, study hard, both night and day;
I will have you soon ordained, to help your mother that did so well for thee;
I will send you home a credit, your country boys to see."
When this young man came home ordained, the neighbors were glad to hear,
And all that came to welcome him, came in twos and threes; Particularly his own dear friends to welcome him they ran, And you never saw such welcome as was for the widow's son.
There was a man lived in this place, he was as rich as a duke or knight;
He had an only daughter, she was a beauty bright.
She says unto her father: "I will go this young man to see,
For before he went to college, he was a schoolboy along with me."
She was brought into a parlor, where she drank ale and wine;
"Come take some noble lady whose fortune will be grand; You will have men to wait on you, and be a gentleman. Come, take myself now, as I stand; you know my fortune is great;
I have ten thousand pounds a year, and, at a death, a whole estate."
He says: "My noble lady, do not explain your mind,
So say no more, my dearest dear, I will never take a wife."
It was when he did deny her, this villain, she came home,
FATHER TOM O'NEIL.-Continued.
The morning of his trial, it grieved our heart full sore
Now, Tom, what is the reason you don't marry this fair?
Then Father Tom stood up and said: I have no witness here,
I never said I would marry her, or make her my wife,
Now, Tom, as you won't marry her, I will give you to understand,
These words were hardly spoken, when a horse came as swift as wind,
And on him came a rider, saying: I was not here in time;
I can tell the very moment, likewise the very spot,
She wants to make a husband of the Right Reverend Father Tom.
Then Father Tom put on his hat, and then began to smile;
WHY CAN'T PADDY BE A GENTLEMAN?
BEING told Pat couldn't be a gentleman, I've set myself the task,
Then why can't Paddy be a gentleman? That's what I want to know.
Some look down on an Irishman, as if they thought that we
You cannot give the reason why, I see it in your face;
If an Englishman's a gentleman, oh, worrah, then it's true;
"Tis long since we trod o'er the highlands together,
A blossom I cherish and wear till I dee-
She is health, she is wealth, and a gude wife to meShe's my ain bonny Mary, the star of Glengary,
She is health, she is wealth, and a gude wife to me.
MARY LE MORE.
As I strayed o'er the common on Cork's rugged border,
Her quick glancing eye and wild aspect betrayed.
Her charms by the keen blasts of sorrow were faded,
And strings of fresh daisies hung loose on her neck.
THE CROPPY BOY.
"GOOD men and true! in this house whe dwell,
To a stranger bouchal, I pray you tell
I would speak a word with Father Green."
"The Priest's at home, boy, and may be
"Tis easy speaking with Father Green;
The youth has entered an empty hallWhat a lonely sound has his light footfall! And the gloomy chamber's chill and bare, With a vested Priest in a lonely chair.
The youth has knelt to tell his sins:
"At the siege of Ross did my father fall,
"I cursed three times since last Easter day
At mass-time once I went to play;
I passed the churchyard one day in haste, And forgot to pray for my mother's rest.
"I bear no hate against living thing; But I love my country above my King. Now, Father! bless me and let me go To die, if God has ordained it so."
The Priest said nought, but a rustling noise Made the youth look up in wild surprise; The robes were off, and in scarlet there Sat a yeoman captain with fiery glare.
With fiery glare and with fury hoarse, Instead of blessing he breathed a curse""Twas a good thought, boy, to come here and shrive,
For one short hour is your time to live.
"Upon yon river three tenders float,
At Geneva Barrack that young man died, And at Passae they have his body laid. Good people who live in peace and joy, Breathe a prayer and a tear for the Croppy