SONGS AND BALLADS OF IRELAND. KATE OF KILLASHEE.-Continued. How bright her blushing glances of love whene'er we met, Like rainbow tints upon the rose with dew of morning wet, And bright the love-light shining from her eyes of hazel brown Oh! she's the star of Leinster, the pride of Longford town. Fair Kate, 'tis mine to wander afar from Erin's strand Alone beside the Hudson's wave, within the strangers' land; But backward ever flies my heart to home and love and thee To Longford's pleasant valleys and the Rose of Killashee. sun, He is fair as the blossom of the Drinane Dhun. He is gone and he's left me in grief for to tell, I wish I had a small boat on the ocean to float, I'd follow my darling wherever he did resort; I'd sooner have my true love to roll, sport and play, Than all the golden treasure by land or by THE WEDDING OF BALLYPOREEN. DESCEND, ye chaste nine, to a true Irish bard, You're old maids, to be sure, but he sends you a card, To beg you'll assist a poor musical elf, With a song ready-made, he'll compose it himself; About maids, boys, a priest, and a wedding, With a crowd you could scarce thrust your head in; A supper, good cheer, and a bedding, which happened at Bally. poreen. 'Twas a fine summer's morn, about twelve in the day, They were soon tacked together, and home did return, And pedlers, and smugglers, and sailors, assembled at Ballyporeen, There was Bryan MacDermot and Shaughnessy's brat, Now the bridegroom sat down to make an oration, Then the bride she got up to make a low bow, Now they sat down to meat-Father Murphy said grace, There was bacon and greens, but the turkey was spoiled, poreen. THE WEDDING OF BALLYPOREEN.-Continued. Now the whisky went round, and the songsters did roar, Tim sung "Paddy O'Kelly," Nell sung "Molly Asthore; Till a motion was made that their songs they'd forsake, And each lad take his sweetheart, their trotters to shake. Then the piper and couples advancing, Pumps, brogues, and bare feet fell a-prancing; THE COOLUN. THE scene is beside where the Avonmore flows'Tis the spring of the year, and the day s near its close; And an old woman sits with a boy on her knee Such piping, such figuring and dancing, was ne'er known at Ballp- She smiles like the evening, but he like the poreen. Now to Patrick, the bridegroom, and Oonagh, the bride, And to all the brave guests, young or old, gray or green, And when Cupid shall lend you his wherry, To trip o'er the conjugal ferry, I wish you may be half so merry as we were at Ballyporeen. BRYAN O'LYNN. BRYAN O'LYNN was a gentleman born, He lived at a time when no clothes they were worn; But as fashions walked out, of course, Bryan walked in"Whoo! I'll soon lead the fashions," says Bryan O'Lynn. Bryan O'Lynn had no breeches to wear, He got a sheep skin for to make him a pair; With the fleshy side out, and the woolly side in"Whoo! they're pleasant and cool," says Bryan O'Lynn. Bryan O'Lynn had no shirt to his back, He went to a neighbor's and borrowed a sack; "Whoo! they'll take them for ruffles," says Bryan O'Lynn. Bryan O'Lynn had no hat to his head, He stuck on the pot, being up to the dead; Then he murdered a cod for the sake of its fin"Whoo! 'twill pass for a feather," says Bryan O'Lynn. Bryan O'Lynn was hard up for a coat, He borrowed a skin of a neighboring goat, With the horns sticking out from his oxters, and then"Whoo! they'll take them for pistols," says Bryan O'Lynn. Bryan O'Lynn had no stockings to wear, He bought a rat's skin to make him a pair; "Whoo! they're illegant wear," says Bryan O'Lynn. Bryan O'Lynn had no brogue to his toes, He hopped in two crab shells to serve him for those; Then he split up two oysters that matched like twins--"Whoo! they'll shine out like buckles," says Bryan O'Lynn. Bryan O'Lynn had no watch to put on, He scooped out a turnip to make him a one; "Whoo! they'll think it's a ticking," says Bryan O'Lynn. Bryan O'Lynn to his house had no door, He'd the sky for a roof, and the bog for a floor; He'd a way to jump out, and a way to swim in"Whoo! it's very convaynient," says Bryan O’Lynn. Bryan O'Lynn, his wife, and wife's mother, They all went home o'er the bridge together; The bridge it broke down, and they all tumbled in"Whoo! we'll go home by water," says Bryan O'Lynn. lea! Her hair is as white as the flax ere it's spun- It is brown as yon tree that is hiding the sun! Beside the bright river The calm, glassy river, That's sliding and gliding all peacefully on. And it brings back the old woman, kindly and dear If her spirit, dear Oonagh, is hovering near, "Twill glad her to hear the old melody rise Warm, warm, on the wings of our love and our sighs "O! sing me the Coolun, The beautiful Coolun!" Is the dew or a tear-drop is moistening his eyes? There's a change on the scene far more grand. far less fair By the broad rolling Hudson are seated the pair; And the dark hemlock-fir waves its branches THE COOLUN.-Continued. They think of the bright stream they sat down beside, When he was a bridegroom and she was his bride; The pulses of youth seem to throb in the Old faces, long vanished, look kindly again- are near, Their feet have not touched, ah, this many a year And, as ceases the Coolun, The home-loving Coolun, Not the air, but their native land faints on the ear. Long in silence they weep, with hand clasped in hand Then to God send up prayers for the far-off And while grateful to Him for the blessings They know 'tis His hand that withholdeth con- For the Exile and Christian must evermore sigh CUSHLA-MO-CHREE.* By the green banks of Shannon I wooed thee, dear Mary, I heed not if snow falls or flow'rets are springing, O! bright shone the morning when first as my bride, love, Wear the night-watches, still thinking on thee; O, my loved one! my lost one! say, why didst thou leave me O! would thy cold arms, love, might ope to receive me Ah, Mary! wherever thou art is my home, love, THE pig is in the mire, and the cow is in the grass, For the home upon earth and the home in the Arrah! sweet Judy Flanagan, I'd die for your sakes. So they sing the sweet Coolun, That murmurs of both homes-they sing Heaven bless thee, Old Bard, in whose bosom Emotions that into such melody burst! And brightest of beams nurse its grass and its flowers Oft, oft, be it moist with the tear-drop of love, And may angels watch round thee, forever above! Old Bard of the Coolun, The beautiful Coolun, My Judy she's as fair as the flowers on the lea, CHORUS. Arrah! cushla mavourneen, will you marry me? That's sobbing, like Eire, with Sorrow and And I'll dig to my knees in the old bog hole. BARNEY O'HEA. Now let me alone, though I know you won't, It makes me outrageous when you're so con- You'd better look out for the stout Corney Impudent Barney, none of your blarney, Fine children we will have, for you must mind that, Till once I have as many as there's days in Lent; BARNEY O'HEA.-Continued. I hope you are not going to Brandon fair, For Corney's at Cork, and my brother's at And my mother sits spinning at home all the So no one will be there, of me to take care, Impudent Barney, none of your blarney, When I got to the fair, sure the first I met The first I met there, the first I met there THE BIRTH OF IRELAND. "WITH due condescension, I'd call your attention to what I shall mention of Erin so green, And, without hesitation, I'll show how that nation became, of creation, the gem and the queen. ""Twas early one morning, without any warning, that Vanus was born in the beautiful Say, And, by the same token, and sure 'twas provoking, her pinions were soaking, and wouldn't give play. "Old Neptune, who knew her, began to pursue her, in order to woo her-the wicked old Jew And almost had caught her atop of the water-great Jupiter's daughter!-which never would do! When I got to the fair, the first I met there," But Jove, the great janius, looked down and saw Vanus, and Was impudent Barney O'Hea. He bothered and teased me, though somehow And Till at last-oh! the saints-what will poor But I think the boy's honest, so on Sunday I've For better or worse to take Barney O'Hea. was his hear me? Neptune so heinous pursuing her wild, he spoke out in thunder he'd rend him asunder-and sure 'twas no wonder-for tazing his child. "A star that was flying hard by him espying, he caught with small trying and down let it snap; It fell quick as winking on Neptune a-sinking, and gave him, I'm thinking, a bit of a rap. "That star it was dryland, both lowland and highland, and formed a sweet island, the land of my birth: Thus plain is the story that, sent down from glory, old Erin asthore is the gem of the earth! If you don't, 'pon my word I'll be goin' AN Irish girl, and proud of it, a word I'd like to say away. About the state of Erin's isle, my native place, to-day; Oh! is the good time coming when the land shall be our own? CHORUS. For John Bull lives in England, Taffy lives in Wales, I've seen the big ship crowded and ready for to start, In days gone by, they tell us, in story-book and rhyme, |