I crossed my brow and I crossed my breast,
But that night my child departed, -
They left a weakling in his stead,

And I am broken-hearted!

O, it cannot be my own sweet boy,
For his eyes are dim and hollow,
My little boy is gone-is gone,

And his mother soon will follow.

The dirge for the dead will be sung for me, And the mass be chanted meetly,

And I shall sleep with my little boy,

In the moonlight churchyard sweetly.

JOHN FRANCIS ARMSTRONG (1841-1865)

I

ADIEU

HEAR a distant clarion blare,

The smoldering battle flames anew ; A noise of onset shakes the air

Dear woods and quiet vales, adieu!

Weird crag, where I was wont to gaze
On the far sea's aerial hue,
Below a veil of glimmering haze

At morning's breezy prime—adieu !

Clear runnel, bubbling under boughs
Of odorous lime and darkling yew,
Where I have lain on banks of flowers
And dreamed the livelong noon-adieu

And, ah! ye lights and shades that ray
Those orbs of brightest summer blue,
That haunted me by night and day
For happy moons-adieu! adieu!

Ο

THE BLIND STUDENT

N Euripides' plays we debated,

In College, one chill winter night; A student rose up, while we waited For more intellectual light.

As he stood, pale and anxious, before us,
Three words, like a soft summer wind,
Went past us and through us and o'er us
A whisper low-breathed: "He is blind!"

And in many a face there was pity,

In many an eye there were tears; For his words were not buoyant or witty, As fitted his fresh summer years. And he spoke once or twice, as none other Could speak, of a woman's pure ways. He remembered the face of his mother Ere darkness had blighted his days.

T

JOHN BANIM
(1798–1844)

AILEEN

IS not for love of gold I go,

'Tis not for love of fame;

Though fortune should her smile bestow,
And I may win a name,

Aileen;

And I may win a name.

And yet it is for gold I go,

And yet it is for fame,

That they may deck another brow,
And bless another name,

Aileen;

And bless another name.

For this, but this, I go: for this
I lose thy love awhile,

And all the soft and quiet bliss
Of thy young faithful smile,
Aileen;

Of thy young faithful smile.

And I go to brave a world I hate,
And woo it o'er and o'er,
And tempt a wave and try a fate,
Upon a stranger shore,

Aileen;

Upon a stranger shore.

Oh, when the bays are all my own,

I know a heart will care,

Oh, when the gold is wooed and won,
I know a brow shall wear,

Aileen;

I know a brow shall wear.

And when with both returned again,
My native land to see,

I know a smile will meet me then,
And a hand will welcome me,
Aileen ;

A hand will welcome me.

SOGGARTH AROON'

M I the slave they say,

A Soggarth aroon?

Since you did show the way,
Soggarth aroon,

Their slave no more to be,
While they would work with me
Ireland's slavery,

Soggarth aroon!