PNINTED IN IRELAND. PRICE TWO PENCE.

REE aPJ EA SONG BOOK.

WOlTlen are Worse than the M en The Donnybrook Train WHITE WIN<"~ S Good Night, Molly Darling For the Green

THE BONNETS OF VINCENT DE PAUL

~HE COLLEEN BA WN My Irish Jaunting Car HOIDe of M l[ Hearl

THE THREE FLOWERS OAT OUL' BOWL HAT Wreck 01 - the Bug-a-Boo LARBOARD 'WATCH ALL'S WELL T he Heart Bowed Down Here's to the M.aiden of Bashful Fifteen How Dear to Me the Hour Ban try Bay

Are you there, Moriarity? The Shady Road to Clane ROSANNA TRAYNOR Roses Underneath the Snow

The Old 8:r0"kYn 80g KILMAINHAM HOTEL 'Tis But a Little Faded Flowe r

FORGET NOT KEVIN B:ARRY The Stuttering Lovers The Moon Behind the Hill PAT MOLLOY

Parody on "Dublin Bay" Lam.ent of the Irish Maiden

Childhood's Happy Home

The Dublin Night PolicelTlan Return from the 13th Lock No, Not More Welcome Let us be Happy Together

Who's Dat a-Callin'? The Rose that Blossoms in Killarney. Flow on, Thou Shin ing River

NUGENT 8l. CO., Publis hers, 45 Middle Abbey S tree, D UB LIN.

THE STUTTERING LOVERS. .A. wee bit o'er the lee. my lads.

A wee bit o'er the lee. The bit'ds , ... ant into the pOOl' man's corn. I fear they'll nevet be s-e-e-n. my lads.

I fear they'll never be seen.

Then out there oomes a bonllY wee lass. .And she was. oh! 80 fair.

A nd she went into the poor man's corn '1'0 ~8e if LlIe birds were t-h-e-r-e. my lads.

'1'0 see if the birds were there.

Then out there came & bonny wee lad. And he was a fishel'ltlan's son ;

A nd he WCllt into the poor man's corn. 'l' o see if the 1&88 IV as t-h-e-r-e. my lads.

'1.'0 see if the lass was t here.

R e put his arm aronnd her waist. Aud kiilsed her three times o· er;

Oh! it's nice to be kissing' a bonny wee las8 That Ilever WBII kissed b-e-f-o.r.e. my lads.

That never was kiued before.

:E1e put his arm around her neck. And kissed her cheek and chin;

Then out spoke the bOlluy wee lass: .. 1 fear it is a s.i.ll, my lad.

I fear it is a sin."

Then out there came the poor old man. AlId he was tattered and torn;

.. If this is the way YO ll ' re ,"i"ding the birds,. I' ll Illilld them myse lf ill the 1I1·0·1'·n. my lad.

I'll mind them lII y~el f in the lilOi'll."

THE HEART BOWED DOWN. The hear t bow'd down IJY weight of woe,

'1'0 weakest hopes will cli ng. '1'0 t hou g'ht aud imp ulse while they !iow.

That CHon no comfort bring. With those excitiug scenes will blend,

O'er pleasure's p80thway thrown. But lIIell,'ry is the only friend

'l'hat grief can call its own .

The mind will. in its 1V0rst despair, Still ponder o'er the past-

On momeu ts of delight that werB Too beantiful to last;

'1'0 long departed years extend I ts visions with them Hown;

For mem'ry is the only friend That grief can call its own.

FLOW ON, THOU SHINING RIVER. l!-'Iow on. thou shining river.

Blit, ere thou reach the sea, Seek ElIa's bower. and give her

The wrea.th I Hin" o'er tJ,ee. Alld tell her thWl. if she'lI be mine,

'l'he cnr1'ent of our lives shall be. With joys along their courl6 to shine

Like those sweet flowers on thee.

But if. in wandering tl ,i tl'er, Thou find' at she mocks lil y prayer.

Thell leave those leaves to wiLi ,er Upon the cold b1Ln k t here.

.A li d tell bel' tllllS, wl,ell youtll i~ o'er. H er 10ll e a'I<1 loveless charIDs sha ll L"

Throw lI by II pO Il life'" weedy s l' Me, Like those sweeL fl owers I'ro lll th~e.

FREE AND EASY SONG BOOK.

DAT OUL' BOWL HAT.

By Louis A. Tiemey.

I neher will forget the time me mud .1er sed lo me.

Dat Ihe would like to lee her lOll 11.1 swanky as could be;

Dare was no reallon why her child should be a tatthered l'ake;

But just ... good as .. Nobby" Clarke-a toff and no mistake!

So on a certing e ..... nin·-doesll't matter when 01' whlre-

She started for to wBllh me face and comb me curly J,air ;

Den she took me to a hat-Ihop. alld she asked the man to fit

A bowler on her lititle swank-oh! w'en I think iv it!

Chorus. Oh, dat oul' bowl hat, It looked 10 "I'ery fiat;

Like a panoake on an elephant's oul' nut ; Dat it nearly med me die W'en I herd the chislers cry.

.. Oh! lookeh 'Ma.her Murl'ay ' III his oul' bowl hat! "

The manager ltood ltarin'. ,v'en a hat on me he set-

.. Dis child has got the largest skull that ever I l,ave ,"et; "

Den says he at last: "Now here's a hat" -law! it lII ade II le fit to swear.

W'en I seen th' oul' g&zabo dat he wanted me to weal'.

n ye searched in every bloomin' shop and went through all the boxes

Yeh'd uebe r find IL hat like tl,at except in J ohllny Fox's!

.. Walk lip dare to t he glass." sa.id he. " till yeI' U1udder sees ye , rig ll t ."

When I sa.w meself. goocl crickey! I near fainted at the fright.

.. Well wear. me boy! " said he to me ... 'tis jus t the business dat;

Yeh'l\ neber find 'n all ye1' life a more IIn com. mon hat."

He needn't just have told me so. for it was plain to see

Dat he was trying very hard to p80lm it off on me. Sill he to 1IIUddel'." Ruch a hat I seldom ever

met; A size and make that's very rare and aw ful

I,ard to get." I wisht it was so hard to getit ueber would be got. I was blazin' like a furnace, cos I W80s Ramiu' hot.

011 Sunday I put 011 me suit-me very bestes one-

Me III udder said with fiasl,in' eyes: "I'm proud of you. me son ! "

Me fadder turned me round and round, and dell he let a shout:

"Eh ! Daniel Joseph Anthony. does yeI' lIIndd er kllOw; yeI' out P "

Dell he whispered (an' he grinnill ') : "YeI' an awful.lookill ' beck ;

Ye I' like a draper's d umlllY that wants oilill ' in the neck."

And Sheila said : "Oh. lawsy II-Ie! y'o ll ght thry the Dublin Zoo ;

'rho' the monkey .holl,e is nearly fllll , da res room enough for you! ..

I couldn't sleep dat blewsed night. but dhramill' on that hat;

I'd waken ill a. terror. t'inkin' someone Oil it lat. Or I'd faney dat a giant had it prtlseed down on

me head. And I'd feel jUlt ",ffocaLin' and be very ne&rly

de&d. I'd hit me head agin' the wall. and let a fright­

ful roar • Dell I'd hear a liUle rattle 011 the IlILlldle of the

door; And I'd only go to sleep agin to waken cold wit'

fear. Ima&-inin' me deck er on a demon drawin' near!

I couldn't learn a Ila'pm·th ill t he Oadyki snl class.

For I heard a neck er sa,yin': .. Masher'g hat ia toppin' gas!"

I thought 'twould neve r finish-ah! but den I got me lIat .•

'Oos I brought it to the 'l'olka and I drol'flldei dat oul' hat.

I put a large brick into it all ' dropped it ill Lhe deep.

An' for the 1081 0' dat oul' bo wil ye 'lI never hear me weep.

'When I seen it bu\Jble·bubble- all ' den ,l isap­pear frolll view.

I felt a kind o· happiness au' joy 1 never knew.

If I ever 8el a ohisler who has got a bowler hat.

I t'inlc about the wan I had dat went Ollt vtlry !iat. .

I feel fo\' him 80 very much 1 never 1'011.1' nor bawl;

Nor jeer at llirn. nor langh at hin, . nor call hilll names at all :

For 1. kilO,'" he'll I "eet his Wate rl oo. the 8a ,,,e 148

BOllyp&rte. lE he ever happens to be seell be Doy le or

"Hippy" Ha,rt.e. Dey'lI COll,e aro" nd the cor'"H' an ' his hel~rt

goin ' pit-a.pat, An' dey'lI let a wn.nl' llOO p out 0 ' de'n, .. Eh! is

dat yer oul' fel\;L'~ IIIL L? "--Oh! dat little hat lII e lIludder bought for me !

HOME OF MY HEART. (Written for the celebrat.d Limeriok sincer, ClLtherill e

H&yes, on her return $a IrellLnd afler a I'roloDgeci triumphal world tour.)

I breat he once more my natin air. And hail each happy. happy scen t'

That rises ronnd me everywhere. As t hough I left bnt yester e'en.

Oh. how I love thee. Erin dear! When roaming 011 a. fore ign stran,j

1.n fancy still "' y steps were here­HOll1e of my heart.. my native land !

In fancy still, el .. ·.

I' ve fOlllld the hour so fondly Bought, An d weep-but these are jOYOUR tear, -

'1'he raptllre of a ,"oment bought B.v long anll weary absent yea.rs.

Oh. how I love t,hee. Erill duar ! When roall' i ng on a foreil,"n stranll

J 11 {alley , till lily steps were here ­H Qllle of '" Y Ileart, my native land :

In fancy still, IlLe,

THE WOMEN ARE WORSE THAN THE MEN.

Sunlr by Gerard Croft..

11 it true that the women are WOlose than the menP

Right fol, rilrht fol, tiddy fol day! la it tt·ue that the women are worse than the

men, When they went down to hell and were chucked

out againP With your right fol da, tiddy fol day, fol

de rol, 01 de rol, 01 de 1"01 day.

A man was walking around one day, Right fol, right fol, tiddy fol day!

A man was walking around one day, A.nd he met with tIle devil upon the highway,

With your right fol da, etc.

Says he, .. M.y good man, I have COll1e fo r YOll I' wife,"

Right £01, right fol, tiddy fol day! Says he," My good man, I have come Ior your

wife, For I hear she's the plagne and torment of your

li fe," With yonr right fol da, etc.

Says he: .. Mr. Divi l, Oh, take her away," Right fol, right fol, tiddy fol day!

Says he : .. Mr. Divi l, Oh, take her away, For she is the plague of my life night and day,"

With your right fol da, etc.

'l'hen the devil he 'hoisted her up on hi~ back, Right fol, right fol, tiddy fol day!

Then the devil he hoisted her up on his back, And off to 11iB residence her did he pack,

With your right fol da, etc.

Two or three devils were tied up with chains, Right fol, l"ight fol, tiddy fol day!

'I'wo or three dnila were tied up with chains, Said they, .. Take her away or she'll knock out

our braw," With your right fol da, etc.

'I'wo other young devils were climbing the wan, Right fol, right fol, tiddy fol day!

Two other young devils were climbing the wall, They said, .. Take her away or Ihe'l! murder UB

all," With your right fol da, etc.

So the devil he hoisted her up on his back, Right fol, right fol, tiddy £01 day!

So the devil he hoisted her up on hil back, And back to Iler ould fellow her h. did pack,

With your right fol da, ete.

Says he, .. My good man, here's your wife back a.gain,"

Right fol, rilrht fol, bddy fol day! Says he, .. My good man, here', your wife back

again, For she wouldn't be kept, not even in hell,"

With your right fol da, etc.

They were leven yeal"! going and nine coming back,

Right fol, right fol, tiddy fol day! They were IeTen years going and nine coming

back, bd Ihe called for the scrapin's she left in the

pot, Wit. your right fol da, etc.

FREE AND EASY SONG BOOK.

So it'll true that the wom.n &re wore. than the THE DUBLIN NIGHT POLICEMAN , men,

Right £01, l"ight fol, tiddy fol day! So it's true that the women are wor .. than the

men, When they went down to hell and were ohucked

out again, With your light fol da, etc.

WHITE WINGS. Sail home! as straight as an arrow,

My yacht shoot,N alon g on the crest of the sea; Sail home! to meet Maggie Darrow,

In her dear little home she is waiting for me. 8igh up! where cliffs they are craggy,

There's where the girl of my heart waits for me.

Heigh ho! I long' for YOI1, Maggie, I'll spread out lily White Wiugs and sail

home to thee. Yo, ho; how we go! 0 h ! how the winds I>low !

Choru:'. White win gs, they never grow weary,

'l'hey carry me cl leerily over the sea: Nigh t CO lll e~ , I long for you, deal'ie,

I'll spread out lily White Wings and sa il home to thee.

Sai l I, olll e! to love and caresses, When Maggie, my darling, is there at my

side; Sail home! blue eyes and gold tresses,

The fail·est of all ill my own little blide. Sail home! to part from thee never,

Always together life's voyage shall be; Sail home! to love thee for ever!

I'll spread out my White Wings and sail home to thee.

Yo, ho! how we ~o I Oh! how the winds blow! Chorus.

LET US BE HAPPY TOGETHER. Come and let 11S be happy together,

For where there's a will there's a way, And the heart lIIay be light ae a feather,

If maxims like mine hold their 8way. First, pack I1p a ~tors of contentment,

Who knows not the way is a dunce If wrong'd never dream of re8entment,

Get rid of such folly at ence. Listen to m'! lillten to me !

Be kind, 'tis the way to meet kindnl8l, If not, what's the use of regret P

Rail on at the world for it. blindnelllJ, But pity, forJrive, and forget.

Our old frienda, no doubt, will be tl"Ue frienda The longer why love them the more;

But .hut not your heart against new friends Tho' one be but true in a score.

Prize the one you have proid as a jewel, With which it ''fere madness to part ;

Who would careleslly throw by the fuel 'L'h.t keepe up the warmth of the heart.

It is easy enongh to be pleasan t When life goes by like a song;

But the man worth while III the one wh o will smile

When everything goes dead wrong.

Now, pardon, gents and ladies all, And listeu awhile to me and my blarney,

Straight from Limel"ick town I ca.me, And, faix, my nalue is Jalll esey Kearney.

Work was scarce and wages bad, .A rumbling, jumbling, never.at-peace mall ,

So up to Dublin I came, bedad, And there tlley made me It llight policelllltll .

Chorus. 'l'earin' away night and day,

Always at war, never a.t peace, mall ; '1'oraloo! cl ll ILr out of I.ny way!

I'm one of the Duhlin night policemell .

I greased my brogues, to Dublill goes, All d told my case so nate and handy,

'rhey gave me a brand new suit of clothes, A nd I swaggered around like aforeigu dand y.

My IV hislcers, like the forest grown , Alllollg the girls I cut it gai ly,

A li d I'or to wallop t he hoys, OCh0I18, They gave me a t11l1nd erin ' big shillelagll .

NolV, if th ere's not a row in the st reet, l~a i :x , I'm the boy knows how to llI a ke oue ;

I get hold 01' the fir~t qniet. chap tl, at I meet And kick lip It s hindy enoll gh to create one.

I[ li e resis ts, th en I've a job, I run him in and swear he 's riotly,

And llext morning the blackgua.rd is fill ed te ll bob,

'Cause he wouldn't allow me to lIIurder hinl quietly.

I'm known to all tile servant maids, For mutton and beef I have all i tcbill ',

A n' if the master happens to conl e in t he w~, .l' . I tell him I'm bere to gua.rd the ki tche n.

According, as the wise men say, .. Now, go ye forth, preserve the peace, mall ,"

And, faix, wllen the master's out of the way The cook is kind to the night policem a n.

LARBOARD WATCH. At dreary midnight's cheerless hour,

Deserted e'en by Cynthia's beam, When tempests beat and tol'rents pour,

And twinkling stars no longer gleam! The wearied sailor, spent witll toil,

Clinge firmly to the weather shrouds, And stillthe lengthen'd hour to guile,

Sings, &8 he views the gath'ring clouds, Larboard watch, ahoy ! Larboard watch,all oy!

But who can speak tIle joy he feels, While o'er the foam his velsel reels, And his tir'd eyelids slumb'ring fall , He rouses at the welcome call Of Larboal·d watch, ahoy! La.rboard watch

Larboard watch, ahoy!

With anxious care he eyes each waV8\ That Bwelling threa.tens to o'erwhelm,

And, his storm·beaten bark to save, Directs with skill the faitbful helm.

With joy he drinks the cheering grog, 'Mid stol"lns that bellow loud alld hoarse,

With joy he Ileaves the reelin g log, Marks the leeway and the course ,

L&l·board watch, alloy! Bu t who can xpeak, etc.

Keep your t.elllper- ll ohoJy el~e wants it.

FREE AND EASY SONG BOOK.

THE THREE FLOWERS. By NOrluan G. Reddin.

(Oop)'rilht and a.ll other rights reserved by the author.)

Sung by Gerard Crofts.

One tim e when walking dowu a I.an e 'When nigllt was drawing uigh ,

I met a colleen with three flowers, . And she more young than I.

.. Saint Patrick bless you, dear! " said I, "If you'll be quick and tell

'l'he place where you did fiud these flowers, I seem to know so wel1."

She took and kissed the first flower once, And sweetly said to me:

"This flo,,,er comes from the Wicklow hills, Its name is Dwyer," said she;

" Its name is Michael D wyer-'l'he strongest flower of all;

But I'll keep it fresh beside my breast, 'l'hough all the world should fall."

S he took and kissed the next flower twice, And sweetly said to me:

" 'l'his flow er I culled in A utrim fields, Outside Belfast," said she.

" The name I call it is W olEe Tone, The bravest flower of all;

But I'll keep it fres h beside my breast, Though all the world should fall."

She took and kissed t he next flower thrice, Alld softly said to me:

" 'l'his flower I found in 'rhomas Street, In Dublill.fair," said she.

"Its name is Robed, Emme1:r-­The youngest flowllr of all;

But I'll keep it fresh beside my breast, 'rhough all t he world should fall.

Then Emmet, Dwyer and Tone I'll keep, For I do lo ve t hem all ;

And I'll keep them f resh beside my breast, Though all the world should fall."

GOOD-NIGHT, MOLLY DABLING. By Samuel Lover.

I've come for to bid you good-night, Molly d~ar, And a blessing to lea.ve at your door,

For I see there's a light in your window, Which tells IlIe yon're wakin', asthore.

'1'he snow is fast falling around me, And making t he green fields look white,

But, oh, if it sll owed ten times ha.rder, I'd wish you, my darling, good-night.

Good-night, Good-night,

Good-night, MoUy darling, good-night.

And if from your slumbers you waken, JUllt look from your window above,

And you'lI.e the footprints I've been makin', Which tell of the boy that you love.

I'll wrap my coat closely around llIe, With Illy heart full of joy and delight,

And I'll speed to my own little cabin, But I'll wish you, my darling, !I'ood-night!

Good.night, Good.nig llt,

Good-night, Molly darling, good.night .

A cheerful outlook is ha lf LI,e battle . .. a.lld perhaps t I,e ot l,e)' I,a lf wou'L be a battltl at all.

RETURN FROM THE THIRTEENTH

LOCK. By "Shallganagh."

Air-" TOOl·il li lay."

Ever), nigh t of the year, about twelve of t I,e clock, .

The spirits and spooks of the dread 'l'Ilirtee nth Lock

Sit swin gin g i heir bodies a-this and t.I ,at way, And ch&llting in chorns "Ri tooril li I"y."

Ri tooril li loodl , ri toori lli lay, Ri toorilli looril, l·i tOOl·i l li lay ; Oh! what wOllhl you t hink, sir, and wllat

would YOII say, If you ,"et with a ghost sin gillg "ToOl'il li

l&y! "

There once was a captni n so gallant a l1(1 hold, He scorned all t he warnillgHof yonll g' a.lln of old, "Do YOll thillk, you poor onsilncks," ll lJ'd seol'n·

fully say, .. '1'h at I'd fear a dead ghost, singing tooril li

layP"

But one night at twelve, coming home from Athy,

H e halted bis ship when the lock he came ll ig'h, Au d he jeered at the ghosts sitting there by the

say, All mournfully singiDg" Ri toorilli lay ."

When l,e camEl to the harbour, his wiftl, good and true,

Says, "Jamsie, my. darling, Oh! say that it's you?

And what will I get for your dinn er t.o.da.y?" " Ob, J anie," he answel'ed, " ri tOOl·il li lay ."

'l'hen 0:8' to the manager's office he went, The log of his voyage to hilll to present ;. The manager, nodding, says: "Very fine day; " .. Oh! aye," says the captain, "ri toorilli lay! "

The manager jumped like a man 01 a tack, And he UP!! and he gives me poor captain the

sack, . And hO~I~ : to his wife went ti,e sailor away" A-sighiDg 'a.nd so bing "Ri tooril li lay."

When he got to is home sure he took to his bed,

And to questions they asked 11im and to a.11 that they said,

He just wagged 1 is bead in a sorrow£ulw8.Y, And mournfully an swered, "Ri too'l'ilH lay! "

The doctor was sent fo r, and ju~t shook Ilis I,ead, "The divil a know I know what 'tis," he said. " '1'here's no such disease in the Pharmacopay That I ever heard tell of as ~l'oori.l li lay!"

That evening at iduight the bold captain died ; With his poor w eping wife and friend s by bis

side; And the last words he said, when they asked

him to pray, Were .. 'l'oorilli looril, ri toorilli lay."

K eep pushing-'tis easier than s itting aside, A nd dreaming and sighing and w.alting tI,e

tide; rll life's earli est ha.t.tle tl,ey 011 ly prevail "Vho lIaily marcll 011 \I'lL I' ll and lI ever say FAIL!

THE MOON BEHIND THE HILL. (The KiMkenny Exile's Christlllas Song.)

By William Kenealy.

I watched last ,night.the ~'i8iDg moon Upon a foreign strand,

Till mem ories .ca, lIle, like Ij.owers iu June, Of home &nd tather1.and.

I dreamt I was a child once more Bes i<l e the 'rippling rill" ,

Where first I saw in da.ys of,),ore 'l'be 111 0011 bebind the hill.

It brongllt me back the visions grall d '1'b~t pUt'pled boy hood's drealll s;

Its youthful loves, its happy land, As brigh t a.R nlomin g's heamR.

It brougbt me back my own sweet Nore, 'I'he casble a lld the mill,

Unt.il lily eyes co uld see no more 'l'h tl llloo n behind the hill.

It brought me back a 1ll0tber'8 love, UnLil, in a.ccents wild,

I prayed her from her 1o 01lle above '1'0 g nard l,er lonely chi ld.

It brough t, me one across the wave, '1'0 li ve ill memory still-

It brought me back my Kathleen's grave, The moon oehind the hill.

NO, NOT MORE WELCOME. (Erin to Grattan.)

No, 'ilOt more welcome the fairy numbers Of music fall 011 the sleeper's ear,

When, half awaking from fearful slumbers, He thinks the fnll choir of heaven is near­

Than came that voice, when, ",11 forsaken, 'l'his heart long had sleeping lain,

Nor thought its cold pulse would ever 'waken To such benign, blessed sounds again.

Sweet voice of corn fort! 'twas like the stealing Of summer wind througll some wreatlte(

shell- , Each Stlcret winding, each inmost feeling

Of my soul ecllOed to its ~pell. 'Twas whispered balm-'twas sunshine spokell r

I'd live years of grief aud pain '1'0 have my long sleep of 'sorrow broken

By such benign, bleseed sounds again.

THE COLLEEN BAWN. '1'he colleen bawn, t he colleen bawn,

From childhood I have known, I've see n t liat 1;ieanty .in the dawn

Which now so bright has grown. A ltho \lgh 11er cheek is blanch'd with care',

Rer smile diffuses joy; Heav'll ~orm'd in her a jewel rare,

Shall I that gem destroy P Shall I that. gem destroy? ..

Thy voice i~ sweet, my colleen bawn, And when thy S01lgs I hear,

Froln eyes unused to weep are drawn '1'he tribllte of a tear.

H eav' n frallJ 'd ill Lhee a jewel rare, S hall I its wor th destroy P

'1'" crush that jewel shall I dare, A 8 'twere a wort h less toy? As ' twere ..

worth less toy? The coll eell bawn. etc.

THE WRECK OF THE BUG-A-BOO. Come all you tender-hearted blokes and list.en

nnto me-I'll tell you of -the dangers 1 llave passed upon

tIle briny sea! Many's the hardships I have seen and dangers

I went throngh, Since I Khipped as cook and steward on board

of the Bug-a-boo !

The day when first I joined her alle lay in James's Street Canal,

She looked so ta1l and trim, forget her shape iI never shall!

'l'he captain wore a white straw hat, knee­breeches, and body-coat so blue-

He would have IIlade a splendid figure-head to oruament the Bug-.a-boo!

We soon weighe,l anchor and set sail to plough the raging 8nr£;

We were bound for the Bog of A lien to get a load of turf.

We sailed a1l day until we passed the Richm ond Barracks so true-

The Dublins fired a royal salute (of bricks) at the captain of the Bug.a-boo!

We sailed tllree days, a storm arose, the sea ran mountains lligh;

'l'he lightning Hashed, the thunder rollell , and relit the dark.red sky;

The second mate gave orders for us our sails to cllle,

WlIile the captain in the cabin was smoking in his bed set fire to the Bug.a.boo!

When the captain found what he had done, he loud for help did shout;

Re bawled lip through the chimney.pot for the helmsman to put it out.

'l'he helmsman being fast asleep, and to his post untrue,

The fire got so far in the middle of the turf he couldn't save tlle Bug.a-boo !

We were four thousand miles from land, in lati. tude fifty.four;

The fire it burned so hard that night it couldn't burn no more !

The captain gave orders to lower the boats and try to save the crew-

One thousand sods of turf and eleven thousand herrings went to blazell in the Bug-a-boo !

FOR THE GREEN. Do you remember long ago,

Kathl~leen P When your lover whispered low,

" Shall 1 stay or shall I go, Kathaleen P"

And YOII answered proudly, "Go! And join King J amlls and strike a blow

For the Green."

Mavrone! your hair is white as snow, Kathaleen;

Your Ileart is sad and full of woe, Do you repent you bade him go,

KathaleenP But quick YOII answer proudly, "No J For better die witll Sarsfield so, ~l'han live a slave without a blow

For the Gre.n."

FREE AND EASY SONG BOOK.

ARE YOU THERE, MO-RI-AR-I·TY? (New Version.)

By Louis A. 'l'ierney.

Whin first 1 'kem to Dublin town, '1'0 good oul' Ballagh-clee,

I wint direct, wud head erect, For to join the D.M.G.

Me ponderons feet woke Kevin Street, I marcll lld on proud an' free ;

For well I knew tlley could not do Wudout Mo.ri.ar.i.ty.

Cllorlls. rm a well.known bobby of the stalwart squad,

I belong to the D.M.G.; And the ladies cry as I pass by,

"Oh, isn't he sweet-Mo.ri.ar.i-ty ! "

On, on 1 wint wudout accidint, 'l'ill the station came in view,

'l'hen meself I HalV as a lilllb of Lhe law Dressed out like a big boy hll1e.

As thro' the gate of me fllture fate 1. stln'ode 011 manfully,

A 11 the polis cried Whell they seen lily sthmle, "'l'bere goes Mo.ri.ar~i.ty ! ..

Tbe sergtlant looked me up and down And do wl1 an' I1p alld thin,

Wud IL kinJly smile on his honest dial, He stbroked his rugged chin .

Then as lie took the station book, "Yer name, avic P" said he;

A nd out I stuck me chest HIle a duck, An' said I, " Mo.rj.ar.i.ty ! "

It W&ll not long till, by my song, Wud care and ,tudy, too,

A polisman I SOOIl became, Prepared me work to do.

Thieves far an' near I filled wud fear, Gaol.birds avoided me;

Malefactors trembled wllen they heard The name" Mo-ri.ar.i.ty ! "

. Tho' cats wor waulin' an' bombs wor -fama', An' dogs runnin' mad wud heat,

I stIll'ode along wud a merry song On me usual daily beat.

An' wIlen fay males fought, a hall I sought Till the battle W&II over, you lIee;

Then I'd march ont, an' you'd hear thilll shout:

"Here comes Mo.ri.ar.i.ty!"

The ladiell, too, I .very soon knew Wor slllitten wan an' all;

And beneath my spell they quickly fell, 1 held them in DIe thrall.

I'd a rale film face, and luch charlll an' sllch grace,

They thought an' dhreamt of me; And when I'd pus near I could hear qnite

clear I " Oh, I love Mo.ri.ar.i.ty! "

The childher loved to have lIIe near, For I cared not a stlll'aw whin they

Used sing tllat stuif about Harvey Dllff In their own mOlt engagin' way.

Whin some wee maid from her ma had strayed,

She'd surely be found by me; For over she'd ruu: "Ah! hello, onl' son,

.Aren't '00 Mo.ri.ar-i- ty P"

Whin to coort lwint, or rather wa8 ~illt, TIle judge on hill binch looked grim;

But after a while I could see Ilim IImile If 1 happened for to glance at him.

Thin I lleard him say in a humorous way: "Now, who conld tbat constable be P"

.. My lord," said the clerk, "he wiII make bi, mark,

That's Gual'd MO.li.ar.i.ty! "

Bog Latin I could speak in less than a week, And in wan case tbey all got a shock,

Whin I burIed a junk iv a quid pro I1I1I1C, AlullliniulII post propter boc.

A hab~uM corpus or an aqna fortis, AHsinol1lLII, cockleorum-ah, me!

Yen'a! whin I'd take the floor the Criel' uaet! roar :

.• Silence! Here's Guard Mo.ri.ar.i.ty ! "

Whin me work is done an' me coorse is rnli, All' I've walked on me last, long beat;

An'to heaven's shore 1 quickly soar, St. Peter up there I'llllleet.

Sure I hope he'll say in a kindly way, .. Is it there, 'l'im, yerself I see;

You I ' reward you've won for work well dOlle, Rtep in, Mo.ri.ar.i.ty!"

ROSANNA TRAYNOB. Now ould Kiok T.raynor that livel down tIle

IItreet Is &11 nice an ould ohap .. you'll wish for to

lIIeet; And he has a daughter, the best ever Ie,n, Her name is Rosanna, her age is nineteen. W.'.,. Und next.door neighbours for many a

day, A.nd no one about her a wrong word can say. She', modest, bewitclling, she'll purty and free, And would make a fine wife for a fellow lik6

me. Chorus.

Oh, Roeann';, IIweet Rosanna, There's something about her, I can't live witllout bel' ;

,oh, Rosanna, sweet R08&nna, ROllanna 'l'raynor'lI the girl for me.

Her fatber's in business, in a small sort of wa),. He deals in tobacco, in coffee, alld tea; . Rosanna, his daughter, at home has to stop, She's the whole of the time looking aftel' tile

shop. And many's the time ,I drop in on the sly, Pretending I'm looking- for something to buy; No odds who slle's serving when my face she'll

see, She leaves all the rest for to come and lIerve

me.

Rhe has plenty of sweethearts, at least I hear so, She bas refused three or four chaps already, I

know; The neighboUrs declare that an ould maid she'll

be, Troth, she needn't be that if she likes to have

me. I Ilaven 't yet asked her, but some day I might, I've asked her old father, who thinks it's all

right; It 100k1l very like it, it's easy to guess, She', lIaid no to so many, to lIIe she'llllay yel.

THE DONNYBROOK TRAM. Air-" The Ould Orange Flut8."

The IIlark of good breeding, the sign of high birth,

May differ in various parts of the earth, So here in de «1' Duulin I pause for a while '1'0 inqllire what is really the test in good sty I., . Take a tralll to the east, to the north, south, or

west, And the way folk behave is an excellent test; But I think you'll observe that in case 01' "­

cram They never move up on a Donnybrook tram.

'l'ake a tram to Clonskea, to Clontarf, Terennrc, Of a seat, of SOllle kind YOll are fairly secure; No lady neetl ever stand up in a car That is filled with the creme de la creme of

Ratl' gar. But haugllty patricians who rent an abode On the t his or the that or t he some other road .B,esent snch expres~ions as "Shove up tilt, ,.., ,

llla'alll,"

T hey never do that on the Dounybrook trallt .

Take a trajll ou a Sunday and join the gay band

Who sniff the sea breeze. on Sandy IIIOll ,01, Strand;

Is that bouncing young beauty to hang by It

strap? No, by janey, you give her a seat-on yOllr

lap. And though till that moment you never have

met, You take it for granted you're in the eame set,; "RoBanna Mullaly, flit closer to Ram "-You l1eYer hear that on the Donnybrook tram.

ALL'S WELL. Delerted by the waning moon, WIIIID .kies proclaim nigllt's clleerless noon, On toWel', 01' fort, or tented ground, The sentry walks his lonely ronnd; And should a footstep haply stray Wllere caution marks th~ guarded way­Who goes there P-stranger quickly tell! A friend!-tlle wordP-good-nijlht-all'. well !

Or sailing on the midnigllt deep, While weary messmates soundly sleep, The careful watch patrols the deck, To guard the ship from foes or wreck; And while his thoughts oft homeward veer, Some friendly voice salutes his ear-What cheer ?-ho, brother, quickly teU !­Above-below-good-night-al1's well I

HOW DEAR TO ME THE HOUR. Air-CO The Twisting of the Rope."

How dear to me the hour when daylight dies, And sunbeams Inelt along the silent sea;

For then sweet dreams of other days arise, And mem' ry breathes her vesper sigh to thee.

Aml as I watch tl,e line of light that plays Along the smooth wave tow'rd the uUl'lling

west, I long to tread that golden path of rays,

.And think 'twould lead to some bright isle of rest.

FREE AND EASY SONG BOOK.

THE BONNETS OF VINCENT DE PAUL.

Written and Snng by G8rard Crofts.

Air-" The Bonnets of Bonny Dundee."

Ye have heard of cocked .haLs, and ye heard 0:1 cockades,

A lId l,elll'lets of br~s8 of the brave fire brigades; 'I'm·ba.ns, tldl silk hats, tam 'shanters, aud all , But we sing the bonnet~ of Vincen t de Paul. There are Borne who wear beavers and hats of

velour, And Qllaker head-dresses, so quaint and delllure, With Cardinal.' red hats and mitres so tall, Sure we place the white bonnets of Vin ce nt de

Paul. Chorns.

Three cheers for the bonnets of Vincen t de Paul!

Hurrah! and hUl'\'ah! and hurrah for t l,elll all !

a i" long live the Sisters, the great and tl,e slllall,

U nder snowy white bonnets of Vince nt d" Paul!

'I'be Boer has a slouchy, the monk a sknll cap, Drnl'll-majors black busbies, witb rap-a-tap-ln.p. Ye Inay praise cappa-magnas, birettas and all, But we praise tl,e bonnets of Vincent de Pan 1. '1'he fna.r has hood and the widow a veil, And ladies of venture wear toqnes with a tai l ; But more wonderfnl far than a child witll a calli. Is a nun with a bonnet of Vincent de Panl.

Chorus. Hurrah for the bonnets of Vincent de Paul ! Of tbe suffering poor they have answered t.I, l:'

call; For centnries three the brave nuns, one alltl

all, Ever wore the white bonnet! of Vincen t de

Paul.

'rhere are model_ of all the shape. under tbe sides,

With flow'rs and fandangoes of eTery size; But though money will purchase those hats, big

and sllIall, I t won't buy the bonnets of Vincent de Paul. The Varsity girls weal' graduate caps, The proud prince a trilby or bowler, perhaps ; The crowns of to-day to-mon-ow will fall, But neTer the bonnets of Vincent de Paul.

Choru •. Then hUl'l'ah for the bonnets of Vincent d"

Paul! Hurrah! and llUrrah! and hurrah for thpIII

all! May God bless the Sisters, sllort, medin lt l,

and tall, Who wear the white bonnets of Vincent 11"

Paul!

All for Ireland! we all love her With oUl' heart's love deep and true ;

Love eacb breeze tl,at blows above her, Be we Orange, Green, 01' Blue;

Love eacll hill, each glen , each river, Tbe wide sea which sbadows forth

That H e meant, the g'feat All-Giver, We'd be one, both Sonth and North .

-ElIen O'Leary.

BANTRY BAY. As I'm Bitting all alone in the aloauWag,

It might have been but yestsrday, '.L'hat we watoh'd the fisher _ails all homing

Till the little herring fleet at anchor lay; 'l.'hen the fisher girls, with baskets swingiu g',

Came running down the old stone way; mv'ry lassie to her sailor lad was singing

A welcome back to Bantry Bay.

Then we heard the piper's sweet note tuning', And all the lassies turn'd to hear,

As they mingled with a soft voice crooning. Till the music floated down the wooden pi,' I'.

.. RaTe ye kindly, colleens all," said the piper ; "Hands across and trip it while I play " ;

A nd a joyous sound of song and merry dan ci II ~~ Stole softly over Bantry Bay.

A.s L'IlI sitting all alone in the gloaming, The shadows of t he past draw near,

A.nd I see the loving faces around me That uled to glad the old brown pier ;

SOllle al'e gone npon t.heir last lov'd ho,"i" i!' Some are left, bnt they are old and gray ,

And we're waiting for the tide iu the gl oall, i ll .~ To sail upon the Great Highway

'L'o that land of rest unending, A II peacefully from Bantry Bay.

WHO'S DAT A-CALLING ? Oh, fat her deal', ,,,hat do 1 hear,

Who's dat a-call in' P It, seelllS far off, and yet so near,

Who's dat a-callin' so sweet P I t came first when I got so ill,

Who's dat a-call in' P A nd in the night wheu all was still,

Who's dat a-call in' 80 8weetP

Chorus. Who's dat a-callin' P Who's dat &-callin' P Making beart aud pulse to beat; Who's dat a-calliu ' ? Who's dat a-callin ' ? WhO'll dat a-calliu' 80 _west.

It's mudder's voice, but den you k,/ow, Who's dat a-callin' P , .

She left us all so long ago, Who's da.t a-callin' so sweet?

So it must be ller spil'it, dad, Who's dat a-ca.llin P

To welcome home her little lad, Who's dat a-calliu' so sweetP

'TIS BUT A LITTLE FADED FLOWER.

"I'is but a. little faded flow'r, But, oh! how fondly dear!

. "l'will bring me back one golden hour, 'l'hro' ma.uy, thro' many a weary year.

l lIlay not to the world impart The secret, the scret of its pow'r,

But treasured in my inlllolt heart I keep my faded flow'r.

\V herc is the heart that doth not keep Within its inmost core

SOllle fond remembrance hidden deep, Of day s, of days that are no more.

Wbo hath not saved Bome triflina thill '" More prized, more prized than jewels ~'~re,

A faded flower, a. broken ring, A trelll of iolden hair.

FREE AND EASY SONG BOOK.

PAT MOLLOY . I W&I just eighteen years of age, my mother',

white.haired boy, She kept a little huckster's shop, her name it

W&l Molloy; 1'1'8 thit-teeu ohildren, Pat," says she, .. w hiol.

heaTen to me has sent, But children are not pigs, you know, they will

not pay the rent." She gaTe me nery shilling that there lTas in

the till, And kis,ed me fifty timell, as if she'd never get

her fill. .. God bleBs you, Pat, and don't forget you are

lily darling boy, Old heland is your country, and your nallle

is Pat Molloy."

Oh, England is a pretty place, of gold there is no lack,

I tramped from York to London with the soil upon my back;

Oh, the English !,ril'ls are beautiful, their love I dou't dtlcline,

And the ea.ting and the drinking is beautiful and fine;

But in the corner of the heart, where nobody can see,

Are two eyes of Irish blue, always looking out onme;

But don't mind, Molly darling', I am still YOllr faithful boy,

F or old Irelu,nd is my couutry, and your na.me shall be Molloy.

From England to Amerioa across tIle seas I rO&lu'd,

A ud every shilling that I made, I sent it safely home.

My mother could not write, but this callle h 011l Father Boyce,

"Heaven bless you, Pat ," 'twas as tllough I heard again my mother's vuiee.

And uow I'm going hom e agaill, as poor as I began ,

To make my Molly happy, alld Sllre 1 think I can,

My pockets they are empty, bnt lil y heart is full of joy,

For old Irelaud is my country, anLl my name is Pat Molloy.

THE , ROSE THAT BLOSSOMS IN KILLARNEY.

Through Enn's green all d lovely Isle, From Coleraine to Killarlley's waters,

Each lovely haunt has had its song Of gallant sons and chal'llling daughters.

But, oh! there is one sunny spot To me Illore dear, 1lI0re priz 'd than any,

Where once ill loveliness sprllug up The rose that blossoms in Killal'lley.

'l'he rose that blossoms, etc.

1 thought when first her eyes lllet mine, My peaCII, my heal't were gone for e ... e1';

I did not daTe to speak of love, F or fear a breath the charm should sever.

Her cheeks are like the rose of May, Her voice hat.h banished care frol11 many;

No t.hought Call wrollg my bonny fio,ver, The rose that blossoms i ll Killarney,

'l'he rose t llat blossoms, eto,

KILMAINHAM HOTEL. Come, gather ye cra.cksmen and burgljlors so fiy, Maces and bracee, HI.oplifters, draw nigh ; I'll sing you a ditty of a cold prison cell, And the blokes keeping "time" in Kihllainhalll

Hotel. OhoruB.

With your one·two and tllree.£our, it's all in a line,

From shoe.shop to quarry each bloke lllust keep time;

For we work like 'l'urka, then go back to our cell,

What a grand institution, Kilmainham Hotel.

01., there is a beauty, he IIhouldn't be here, He was caught by a .. copper" a-shoving tI, e

If queer." His parents were wealthy, he was a great

swell, He's now doing' .. time" in Kilmainham Hotel.

And there is another, he was here before, He was caught emigrating to some foreign

shore; 'l'he bundle was heavy, he tripped and I.e fell, A nd he's now keeping" tinle" at Kilmainhall l

Hotel.

Old Scotty, the jailer, we all know his snook, He'll take ofi' your old" togs" and bring you a

suit, Kllee-breechell and jaoket and a number ILl

well, For we're all re~lar boardel'S at Kilmainham

Hotel.

HERE'S TO THE MAIDEN OF BASHFUL FIFTEEN.

Here's to the maidell of baRhful fifteen, Here's to the widow of fifty ;

Here's to the Haunting, extravagant quean, A nd here's to the hou~e wife that's thrifty,

Let the toast pass, Drink to tlte lass,

I'll wal'l'ant sbe'll prove an excuse for the glass.

Here's to the cbarmer whose dimples we prize, Now to the maid who' Itas none, sir;

Here's to t be girl with a pail' of blue eyes, And here 's to the nymph witlt but !) lIt!, sir.

Let the toast pass, etc.

Here's to the maid with a bosol1l of snolV, And to her that's as Lrown as a berry;

Here's to the wife with a face fnll of woe, And now to the girl that is merr)'.

Let the toast pass, etc.

For let 'em be clumsy, 01' let 'em be slim, Yonng 01' ancient, I care not a fell.tbe r;

So fill t.he pint bumper, quite np to tlte bl;llJ, And let us e'en toast thelll t ogetber.

Let tlte toast pass, etc,

In this sensa.tion ceu tmy Good sOllgs are very few;

The words are little cared for, If the Illusic it is lI e lV.

An d subjects t hey a re Itard to find, Bnt I Itave fO lln d olle slil l,

TIt",L's .. N ever pusl1 a ,"all becallstl 11e's goin g' .lo W,!l the hill."

MY CHILDHOOD'S HAPPY HOME, (The toJlowlng note w ... prefaced to thl. IOna In an

old American song book :-.. This old song 18 wedded to a sweet air, and h .... b eon

a great favourite with most Dublin men In New York, who &re incomparahly the best priva.te singer . in America.. The a.bsenoe ot home government h .. s left them behind the German in musical education, but tor sweetnesB and ta.ste in solo singing, the palm is uui ver­sa.lly oonoeded to the men trom Dublin. Ha.ppy board­ing-house that secures h .. lt-ardozen of them for the winter.")

I've wandered through each mazy scene Where human feet may roam,

But find no spot in memory green Like childhood's happy home .

There fancy oft deliglals to stray When twilight shadows rue,

Aud like youth 's hopes, the sun's last ray Melts from our gazing eyes.

Oh, what is grandeur-say, what is bllle, Meteors that flash rOllnd a name;

But home's a spot endear'd to all By sllllsla ille or Ly tears,

A spell tllat holds the heart in thrall Throllghout life 's after years. Oh, my home, my happy home,

Wherever I lllay roalll, I find no spot in memory green

Like childhood's happy home.

And though I am a cherislaed guest 'Neath grandeur's gilded dome,

'1'he scelle by mem'ry's sunshine bl~st la childhood's earl y hOllle.

The humble porch, the straw.roofed cot, 'l'he garden's modest flowers,

Are deal' to memory as the spot Of life's most happy hOllrs.

Then say what is gt'andeur, etc,

MY IRISH JAUNTING CAR. I am an Iri~h jarvey, and Ireland is my llO llIe, There's now bere else on all the earth t llllt I

wonld wisb to roam; But I like to meet the s trangers, and driTe tbem

near and far To see the sights of old Ireland from nlY Irisl.

jauntillg car, Choms.

Come driving on my jaunting car throllgl. Rosoolllmou and Kil dare,

In Dublin to,'m or C8.Htlebar 01' tlt tl love ly County Clare;

From Cork to Limerick and A thlone, and home ,by Mullingar-

Yon can view the lal<e8 of Killarney fro'l! lily Irish jaunting car.

Some people now for ohange of ail' go far acl'O~S the lllain,

'1'0 view the sights and scellery 01' Italy 01' Spain;

But if I only had my way they would ll eVl' 1' go so far

Until tlley'd been roulld old Ireland 011 lll)' Trisb jaunting car.

Old Ireland and its beanty spots are prai ' ecl by poets' pen,

And battlefields tlle world o'er prOVtl t he v/l.lour of Irisltlllen;

Alld in peace, 1.00, we ca ll show our worth , and Le It guiding' sta r,

I'l l prOVtl all tI. is if YOI1 take a tri}J 011 Ill.\" ll'i&it jaullting car,

THE SHADY ROAD TO CLANE. By John Dennis.

Air-" The Ould Plaid Shawl."

'Twu in the charming month of May, all nature Imiled serene,

I strolled along thro' sylvan shade, an ideal verdant scene;

In all Kildal'e no spot so fair-this fact I call maintaill-

Aa that nymph's abode, the shady road from Bodenstown to C1ane.

Enchanted by the lovely scene, I slowly strolled along,

Then from my deep abstraction I wu stirred by honeyed song;

'Twas the" Coulin " ill sweet Gaelic alld tradi. tion's pUI'est strain,

By a colleen who approached me Oil the sllady road to C1ane.

With chal'ming native modesty she stopped in sweet surprise,

As crimson tluHh suffused her cheeks, slle stood with downcast eyes.

For sweeter face or purer grace you'd search Kildare in vain,

And ber beauty captivated me on the sllady road to C1ane.

Enamoured, I saluted her, "Cionnus ta tu, eailin 6gP"

Her pouting lips were tempting me to add a " tuirim p6g."

She sweetly said, 'Hra lIIe go maith, agus COllnus ~.. ta tu f6iu P

I've lost my way. Kind sir, is this the road to C1ane P"

With gentle reaslurance, I directed her along, And as she flitted onward she resnmed that

honeyed song; 'I'he blackbird ceased its piping and the linnet

its refrain, And the tlll'ushes paulled to listen on the shady

ro.ad to C1ane.

I wlLtelled her lovely form till she vanished froUl lily view,

Dejected, I retraced my steps, not knowing what to do;

.' ~'o r peace of mind and happiness I never cau regain

Till 1 find the maid that stole lily heart on ti,e shady road to C1ane.

ROSES UNDERNEATH THE SNOW. SUllllller groves lIIay lose their gladness,

Winter winds lIIay wande r by, Cares come Oll, and weary S!\llness,

MUHt we then for ever sigh? Brave the storlll \~ ith finll eudtlaV'our,

Let YOllr vain rtlpillingR go ; Hopeful hearts will find \'01' ever

R oses un derlleath the snow.

One by olle the links that bind us May be se vered here on earLh,

But t he sun will sl1I'tlly find us 'I'lm1ugh the winter's g loolll )' dealth.

Chtltl ri"1I1 hearts for ever ueatin g", W,·a.rill g ever sUlllmer's glow.

A I, ! we know you're always 11,,· , '1 ill !;;· Ro,~~ underueatll the snow,

FREE AND EASY SONG BOOK.

FORGET NOT KEVIN BARRY. PARODY ON " DUBLIN BAY." (Died for Ireland, November 1,1920, aged 18 By J ohn MacDouagh.

ye an.) Recorded for Henecy's, Crow Street. DuLlill , Air-" Drink to Me ,Only,"

By Shiela O·Connell.

He's gone, he's dea.d, his blood is sbed For the land he loved best;

November Day he pasled away To lleaven-his home of rest.

His spil'it bright sheds radiallt light O'er green billside aud glen-

His white soul pleads for Eire's needs, And her brave fighting men.

Thongh yet a boy they made him die, Because he would not ten ;

They tortur'd him, they martyr'd him, Stin Kevin scorn'd to sell

The comrades brave he hoped to save Or the cause they held dear;

And as he died, though .trong men cl'ied, His hearl was free from fear.

May God above reward your love­'l'he sacrifice you've made-

And we will save the duugeon grave Where your young heart. was laid.

That glorious death inspire8.onr faith, The Greater Love was fOe..

You gave your life in l!Hre's strife, You'll live while time;endares.

~ THE OLD BRoW BOG.

By James F. oJ dron.

..A.ir-" The W eadn' 0' the Green."

I call see a white road winding Far away amid the brown,

With the blne sky high above it A nd the warJII SUII shining down.

Oh, that scene I willl'llmell,ber As along through life I jog,

For I've left lily heart behind me In the old brown Log.

And I wonder, as I wander Through the city's bully throng,

Shall I ever, ever hear again The bog lark'~ dlLlVllillg song.

Shall I e'er see tile sun dispel The ri Hi ll g" mist and fog,

Alld see ag"ain the glory Of the old brown bog.

Yes, in dreams I see it nightly, But wllen dawn COllie. it has gone,

And there'H only bricks II.nll lIlortar F or lily eyes to glLze upon.

But SOllle day I'll cross the ocean­Cease to be It ciLy cog'-

And lily Boul ~ hall fiud .lVeet peace again hi the old brown bog.

The bank has no fortune of mine to ill vest, But there's money enougQ for the olles I love

Lest;

by Jimmy O'Dea

They took a trip in a motor boat, O'Neill and his fair young bride;

To Ireland's eye the boat set sail Over the bounding tide.

And O'Neill was proud as he kissed his bride, For she looked so young alld gay ;

" Oh, Tom," sbe cried, .. will the bOllit go down , When we're out over Dublin Bay P"

They safely passed the Pigeon House Fort, A nd the boat she gathered speed;

'L'hen Tom took out his sandwiches, Says he, "We'll have a feed,"

Then the waves did rise and the boat did roll, "Have a sandwich," Tom did say;

But bis bride slle was too full fOI' words As she leant over Dublin Bay.

He took hel' by t.he lily white hand, " Oh! I'm dying, Tom," said she;

The water was an emerald green, But greener fat· was she.

A nd the seagulls cried and the curlews curled­Tom was filled with wild dismay;

And the fishes got his sand wiches That day Ollt in Dublin Bay.

He cried, " Oh, captain, stop the ship, Please let the anchor go" ;

But the captain sanlr "The Anchor's Weighe,l ,.· And sang it sweet and low.

A life upon the ocean-wave, It may be all tlley say,

But Tom he awore lle'd risk his life No more out in Dublin Bay.

LAMENT OF THE IRISH MAIDEN. A Ballad of the Irish Brigade.

On Cal'l'igdhoun the heath is brown, The douds are dark o'er A I'd 1111. Laoi.

And many a stream comes rushing dow" To swell the angry Abhan nil. Bllidhc.

The moaning blaHt is sweeping fast Through l1Ia1lY a leafless tree,

And 1'111 alolle, for he is gone, My hawk has flown, ochon mo chroidhe.

'fhe heath was green on Carl'igdhoulI, Bright sbone the SUII on A I'd na Laoi,

'I'he' dark green trees bent t rem bling down To kiss the 81nmh'rillg Abhan na Buidl,e ;

That happy day, 'twas Lut last May, 'Tis like a dream to me,

When DOlllhnall 8wore, ay, o'er and o'er, We'd part no more, a stoir mo chroidhe.

Roft A prilshow'rs and bright May tlow' r~ Will brin&, the summer ba«k ag"aill,

But will they brlllg me Lack the hours I sptmt with my Lrave Domhnall tllen ?

'Tis but a chance, for he's gone t{) France To wear the fleur de lis;

But I'll follow you. mo Dholllhnall dubh, For still 1'111 true ·to YOII, 1110 chl'Oidhe.

All the gold that I want I shall /illd on the whills Nngent's publications contain songs and reci.

\V I, e ll 1'111 in COil lIelll H.l' " alu ong the Twelve taLiona to suit all tastes, and are entirely pro. Pins.-Percy French, duceq in IrelJ!.nd.