THE GREEN FLAG. FLAMING O'FLANAGINS.-Continued. The tazing, the cursing, the shouting, the shooting, The clattering of glasses-the breaking of skullsThe dancing would sure be upon the best footing, Wid Irish Miss Murphys and English Miss Bulls. The neat little party you'd like to see revel, 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; And faix, after that, the old Danes beat O'Brien, And he died victorious, more glory for Pat. Have fought in each battle, all the way round; The blood of O'Flanagans covers the ground. Shouting and screaming twice as loud as they can? Paddy Flynn, I go bail, I'll give you a sore bag of bones Ii you'll only come here and turn out like a man. While me nate jug of punch is cooling outside? But the love of the whisky was always me pride. boys! fill your glasses, each hour that passes Steals, it may be, on our last night's cheer; The day soon shall come, boy's, with fife and drum, boys, Breaking shrilly on the soldier's ear. Drink to the faithful hearts that love us, 'Mid to-morrow's thickest fight; While our green flag floats above us, Think, boys, 'tis for them we smite. Down with each mean flag, none but the green flag Shall above us be in triumph seen; Oh! think on its glory, long shrined in story, Charge for Erin and her flag of green! Think on old Brian, war's mighty lion, 'Neath that banner 'twas he smote the Dane; The Northman and Saxon oft turned their backs on, Those who bore it o’er each crimsoned plain. Beal-an-atha-Buidhe beheld it Bagenal's fiery onset curb; We, boys, followed him from red Beinnburb. flag Shall above us be in triumph seen; Oh! think on its glory, long shrined in story, Charged with Eoghan for our flag of reen! And if at eve, boys, comrades shall grieve, boys, O'er our corses, let it be with pride; When thinking that each, boys, on that red beach, boys, Lies the flood-mark of the battle's tide. See! the first faint ray of morning Gilds the east with yellow light! Hark! the bugle note gives warning One full bumper to old friends to-night. Down with each mean flag, none but the green flag Shall above us be in triumph seen: Oh! think on its glory, long shrined in story, Fall or conquer for our flag of green! KATTY AVOURNEEN. MOLLY MULDOON. An' I am wantin' it back wid a slice of your own; 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, And pity my love for you, Molly Muldoon. Her father, the drover, has money in store; An', troth, if I liked-no, I needn't say more. But little I care for themselves or their riches; An' the music you'd make wid your nogginkan' spoon, Would be sweeter to me if I slept in the ditcles, 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; Will tell in my favor, a calleen machree. No schamin' can smother, so whisper aroon; If we're one for the ashes, sweet Molly Muldoon. Arrah! Barney,” cried she, an' she spoke thro' the window, " Ah! would ye be taking me out of my bed? To come at this time it's a shame an' a sin, tooIt's whisky, not love, that's got into your head. face me, KATTY AVOURNEEN.-Continued. OULD IRELAND SO GREEN. If your heart it was true, of my fame you'd be tender, Consider the time, an' there's nobody in; MICKEY DOOLAN was one of them boys as went fighting, Oh! what has a poor girl but her name to de. There was meetin's of factions, and rowin's and ructions; And breaking of skulls on St. Patrick's Day; fend her? Aud murderous deeds—ah! the devil to pay! No, Barney Avourneen, I won't let you in.” He went armed wid an illigant sprig of shillalah. “ Ah! cushla,” cried he, “it's my heart is a Says Biddy, his wife, “ Is it fightin' ye mean?” fountain Says Mickey, “Don't bother-go home to your mother; That weeps at the wrong it might lay at I'm going out to fight for ould Ireland so green.” your door; Your name is more white than the snow on the mountain, And Barney would die to preserve it as CHORUS, pure. I'll go to my home, though the winter winds There's Billy O'Mulligan, Jimmy O'Sullivan, Barney O'Toole and Johnny Mackay; I'll whistle them off, for I'm happy within; And Bobby O'Ryan and Shemus O'Brien, An' the words of my Kathleen will comfort Goin' fightin' and tearin'—it's St. Patrick's Day. and bless me; ‘Oh! Barney Avourneen, I won't let you in.'” O'DONNELL ABU. Well, we meets Danny Looran, and says to him: “ Danny, Have ye come out to fight for the Queen or the Pope? So long as I fight, that's sufficient, I hope! And they nearly got murdered, but each of them knew, That he fought for his country-old Ireland so green.-CHORUS. Hugh! When they'd done with each other, they sat down to rest, And they felt that they both a good action had done; On for old Erin-O'Donnell abu! They'd fought for their country and bled for their homes, Princely O'Neill to our aid is advancing And nearly got murdered and relished the fun! With many a chieftain and warrior-clan; Then they both went together to fight side by side, A thousand proud steeds in his vanguard are And they met Larry Moore walking calm and serene; prancing So they broke in his skull, and knocked in his teeth, 'Neath the borders brave from the banks of And jumped on his chest—for ould Ireland so green.-CHORUS. Well, they got in a tangle and hit right and left, And Danny hit Larry, and Larry hit Danny, And Michael from both of them made the blood pour! Tyrconnell's dread war-cry-O'Donnell abu! Then they all fell at once, and they sprawled on the ground, Wildly o'er Desmond the war-wolf is howling, Both Danny and Larry and Michael between; Fearless the eagle sweeps ocer the plain; But they wouldn't let go, so they all went together, or slain. Now some more sons of Erin were fighting for freedom, As they rowled in the ditch, heard them patriots cry; Pay them all back the deep debt so long But they oon fished 'em out, and for love of Home Rule, boys, due; They gave 'em a thrashin' before they were dry! Then they all at once felt as they wanted some liquor, So away they went to a whisky shebeen ; And they murdered the keeper and smoked his tobaccy, Sacred the cause that Clan-Conaill's defending, nd emptied the till for ould Ireland so green.-CHORUS. The altar we kneel at, and homes of our sires; But them as wor left of them true sons of Erin, Arrived safely home and pitched into their wives, And Larry Moore's face wasn't fit to be seen, And Mickey wor tired, and wouldn't go walking, BILLY O'ROURKE. PADDY MAGEE'S DREAM. FAITH! I greased my brogues and took my stick the twentieth JOHN BULL he was an Englishman, day of May, sirs, And went to tramp one day, Then off to Dublin town I tripped to walk upon the sea, sirs; With three-pence in his pocket To take him a long way; Yet no one did he see, Till he fell in with an rishman, Whose name was Paddy Magee, Good morning, Pat, said John to him, Where are you going to? I gave the Captain six thirteens to carry me o'er to Porgate, Says Paddy: I hardly know myself, But before we got half o'er the road the wind it blew at a hard I want a job to do. rate; Have you got any money about you? Said John Bull unto Pat. The sticks that grew up through the ship they sang out like a whistle, 1 Says Pat: It's the only thing I'm wanting, For I haven't got a rap. And the sailors all, both great and small, they swore we's going to the devil. Then they overtook a Scotchman, Who, like them, was out of work; The ship she sang us all to sleep till they came to the place of To judge by his looks, he was hard up landing, And as hungry as a Turk. I'm sorry I canna, said the Scotchman, Although you've no tails to your coats you've money in your For I ha'e na got ane baubee. breeches. Said the Englishman, I three-pence have, I met an honest gentleman a-traveling the road sirs, What shall we do with that? Good morning, says I, pray how do you do? but he proved a mighty Och! buy three-pen'orth of whisky, rogue, sirs; It will cheer us up, said Pat. For, at the corner of a lane a pistol he pulled out, sirs, Nay, dinna do that, said the Scotchman, And he rammed the muzzle, arrah, what a shame, into my very I'll tell thee the best to do; mouth, sirs. Just buy three-pence worth of oat-meal, I'll make some nice burgoo. Your money, blast your Irish eyes! arrah! be merciful, cried I, Now I think we had better buy a loaf, sirs. The Englishman did say; He swore my brains he would blow out if I should bawl or cry, And then in yonder hay-stack sirs ; Our hunger sleep away. He leveled fair just for my sconce, three steps I did retire, sirs, We can get a drink of water His pan it fiashed and his head I smashed—my shillelah don't miss From yonder purling stream, fire, sir. And the loaf shall be his in the morning, Who has the greatest dream. A widow next did me employ all for to cut and thrash, sirs, No man like me could handle a flail, in troth, I was a dasher; The Englishman dreamt by the morning, She had a maid who used me well, but I, being afraid o' the Ten million men had been beadle, For ten years digging a turnip up, Bid her good morning, Madam, says I, I think you'll have use for The largest ever seen; At last they got the turnip up, By working night and day; Then it took five million horses This turnip to pull away. From the big town of Limerick lately I came, Said the Scotchman: I've been dreaming I left Ireland solely bekase of my name; Fifty million men had been For if anything wint wrong, or a mischief 'twas done, For fifty years making a boiler, Shure they'd lave all the blame on my mother's own son. The largest ever seen. So my name now is Paddy O'Connor, What was it for? said the Englishman, 'Pon an Irishman's thrue word and honor; Was it made of copper or tin? Oh, misfortune my curse light upon her, It was made of copper, said Scotty, 'Twas she christened me Paddy Miles. To boil your turnip in. If a windy was broke, or a house robbed of tiles, Och! said Paddy, I've been dreaming And you'd ax who done that, shure they'd say Paddy Miles; An awful great big dream; Who was it set fire to his reverence's wig? I dreamt I was in a hay-stack, And cut the tail off Pat Flanigan's pig? By the side of a purling stream, Who was it called Mishes Muloney a scollup? I dreamt that you and Scotty was there, And gave Paddy McGee's cat the jallop? As true as I'm an oaf; Some blackguards would hit me a wallop By the powers! I dreamt I was hungry, And say it was you, Paddy Miles. So I got up and eat the loaf. your cradle! THE GATHERING OF THE MAHONYS. JERRY MAHONY, arrah, my jewel! come let us be off to the fair, For the Donovans all in their glory most cer tainly mean to be there; Say they, “ The whole Mahony faction we'll banish 'em out clear and clean." But it never was yet in their breeches their bullaboo words to maintain. There's Darby to head us, and Barney, as civil a man as yet spoke, 'Twould make your mouth water to see him just giving a bit of a stroke. There's Corney, the bandy-legged tailor, a boy of the true sort of stuff, Who'd fight though the black blood was flowing like butter-milk out of his buff. There's broken-nose Bat from the mountain last week he burst out of jailAnd Murty the beautiful Tory, who'd scorn in a row to turn tail; Bloody Bill will be there like a darling-and Jerry-och! let him alone, For giving his blackthorn a flourish, or lifting a lump of a stone! PADDV MILES.-Continued. THE EXILES OF ERIN. 0! Erin, mavourneen, slan leat go brah! 0! Erin, mavouneen, slan leat go brah! 0! Erin, mavourneen! slan leat go brah! Though the laws I obeyed, no protection I found, 0! Erin, mavourneen! slan leat go brah! 0! Erin, mavourneen! slan leat go brah! 0! Erin, mavourneen! slan leat go brah! With principles pure, patriotic and firm, 0! 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 e'er prevailed I was ell known to sigh for it; If her foes e'er prevailed I was well known to sigh for it; 0! Erin, mavourneen! slan leat go brah! But hark! I hear sounds, and my heart is strong beating, 0! Erin, mavourneen! slan leat go brah! O! Erin, mavourneen! slan leat go brah! Bole yudh, mavourneen! Erin go brah! And Tim, who'd served in the militia, has his ba yonet stuck on a pole; Foxy Dick has his scythe in good order-a neat sort of tool on the whole; A cudgel I see is your weapon, and never I knew it to fail; But I think that a man is more handy who fights, as I do, with a flail. We muster a hundred shellelahs, all handled by ilegant men, Who battered the Donovans often, and now will go do it again; To-day we will teach them some manners, and show that, in spite of their talk, We still, like our fathers before us, are surely the cocks of the walk. After cutting out work for the sexton by smashing a dozen or so, We'll quit in the utmost of splendor, and down to Peg Slattery's go; In gallons we'll wash down the battle, and drink to the next merry day, When mustering again in a body we all shall go leathering away. LANIGAN'S BALL. In the town of Athy one Jeremy Lanigan Battered away till he had’nt à pound, His father he died and made him a man again, Left him a farm and ten acres of ground! He gave a grand party to friends and rela tions Who hadn't forgot him when sent to the wall; And if you'll just listen, I'll make your eyes glisten With the rows and the ructions of Lanigan's ball. too; LANIGAN'S BALL.--Continued. FLAG OF OUR LAND. Myself, of course, got free invitations for all the nice boys and girls I'd ask, Flag of our Land, that oft has streamed through battle's lurid And in less than a minute the friends and re blaze and smoke, lations When the long ranks were wrapped in flame, and in the shock the Were dancing away like bees round a cask. legions broke, Miss O'Hara, the nice little milliner, Flag of our Land! for you, for us they say the sun of hope has set, Tipped me the wink to give her a call, We give them back the craven lie! we're shattered, but not beaten And soon I arrived with Timothy Glenniher yet. Just in time for Lanigan's ball. 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, And Saxon hate and native guile did all the wreck that Hell could The Nolans and Doolans and all the O'Gradys do. Were courtin' the girls and dancin' away. Not coward-like, but wild for fight, have we and they in conflict Songs there were as plenty as water, met, From “ The Harp that once thro’ Tara's We've borne the loss for centuries; repulsed, but never beaten yet. ould Hall,” To "Sweet Nelly Gray” and “The Ratcatcher's Daughter," This isle is ours, its plains and hills, from center to the utmost All singing together at Lanigan's ball. sea, We tread its soil, we speak its tongue, we dearly pray to see it They were startin' all sorts of nonsensical free. dances. Patience and faith shall do the work, and earnestness shall win the Turning around in a nate whirligig; debt; But Julia and I soon scatthered their fancies, Hark you who still have hearts to toil; we're scattered, but not And tipped them the twist of a rale Irish beaten yet. jig. Och mavrone! 'twas she that as glad o' me; We danced till we thought the ceilin' would While in this Irish Land there lives the spirit of an Irish race, fall The pluck that smiles at worst reverse and meets disaster face to (For I spent three weeks in Burke's Academy face, Learning a step for Lanigan's ball). 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, yet. * Perish the past! " the patriot cried; ay, let the mournful ages He put his right foot through Miss Hallo go, ran's hoops. With bitter feud, the curse of hate, they've made our heritage of The creature she fainted, and cried “Millia murther! ” Into the darkness of our doom a ray of nobler glory let; She called all her friends and gathered them Seize fast the present; years to come they'll swear we were not all. beaten yet. Ned Carmody swore he'd not stir a step fur ther, But have satisfaction at Lanigan's ball. Down with the feuds of vanished years, they waste our breath, they break our strength; In the midst of the Miss Kerrigan A nobler creed, a nobler life, 'tis ours to preach and fill at length. fainted Flag of our Land, float high and fair; they lie who say our sui Her cheeks all the while were as red as the has set; God and the future still are ours; we live, and are not beaten Some of the ladies declared she was painted, yet. She took a small drop of potheen, I suppose. Her lover, Ned Morgan, so pow'rful and able, THE FELON'S LOVE. When he saw his dear colleen stretched out by the wall, “ GRACIE O'DONNELL-oh! why sit you there, He tore the left leg from under the table Twining so calmly your bright yellow hair, And smashed all the china at Lanigan's ball. Wait you a lover to come from Knockbwee, When the brown moon arises on mountain and sea ? Oh, boys, there was the ructions, Myseli got a lick irom big Phelim McHugh, But I soon replied to his kind introductions, “ You have eyes like the starlight on Nephin's gray peak, And kicked up a terrible hullabaloo. There is bloom on your lips-why the snow on your cheek? Old Shamus the piper had like to be stran The smile on thy face, gentle maiden, is gone, gled, And the touch of your fingers is cold as the stone." They squeezed up his pipes, bellows, chanters and all; “I wait not a lover to come from Knockbwee, The girls in their ribbons they all got en- My lover's in chains on the wide swelling sea, tangled, O, Willie mavourneen, when traitors stood high, And that put an end to Lanigan's ball. The foe felt the galnce of your clear flashing eye. woe. row rose |