When old Leinster's sons of fame,
Heads of many a warlike name,
Redden their victorious hilts
On the Gaul, my soul exults.

When the grim Gaul, who have come Hither o'er the ocean's foam,

From the fight victorious go,

Then my heart sinks deadly low.

Bless the blades our warriors draw,
God be with Clan Ranelagh!
But my soul is weak for fear
Thinking of their danger here.

Have them in thy holy keeping,
God be with them lying sleeping,
God be with them standing fighting,
Erin's foes in battle smiting!

MOLLY ASTORE.

Oh, Mary, dear-oh, Mary fair,
Oh, branch of generous stem,
White blossom of the banks of Nair,
Though lilies grow on them;
You've left me sick at heart for love,
So faint I cannot see;

The candle swims the board above,

I'm drunk for love of thee!

Oh, stately stem of maiden pride,
My woe it is and pain,

That I, thus severed from thy side,
The long night must remain.

Through all the towns of Innisfail
I've wandered far and wide,
But, from Downpatrick to Kinsale,
From Carlow to Kilbride,
Many lords and dames of high degree,
Where'er my feet have gone,-
My Mary, one to equal thee

I never looked upon :

I live in darkness and in doubt

Whene'er my love's away

But were the gracious sun put out,
Her shadow would make day.

'Tis she, indeed, young bud of bliss,
And gentle as she's fair-
Though lily-white her bosom is,

And sunny bright her hair,
And dewy azure her blue eye,
And rosy red her cheek,
Yet brighter she in modesty,

More beautifully meek!

The world's wise men, from north to south

Can never ease my pain

But one kiss from her honey mouth

Would make me well again.

THE FAIR-HAIRED GIRL.

I.

The sun has set, the stars are still,
The red moon hides behind the hill-
The tide has left the brown beach bare,
The birds have fled the upper air;
Upon her branch the lone cuckoo
Is chanting still her sad adieu,

And you, my fair-haired girl, must go
Across the salt sea under woe.

II.

I, through love, have learned three things,
Sorrow, sin, and death it brings;

Yet, day by day, my heart within
Dares shame and sorrow, death and sin.
Maiden, you have aimed the dart

Rankling in my ruined heart;

Maiden, may the God above
Grant you grace to grant me love!

III.

Sweeter than the viol's string,
And the note that blackbirds sing,
Brighter than the dew-drops rare
Is the maiden wondrous fair;

Like the silver swans at play
Is her neck, as bright as day.
Woe was me, that e'er my sight
Dwelt on charms so deadly bright!

CASHEL OF MUNSTER.

I'd wed you without herds, without money, or rich array, And I'd wed you on a dewy morning, at day-dawn grey; My bitter woe it is, love, that we are not far away

In Cashel town, though the bare deal boards were our marriage bed this day!

Oh, fair maid, remember the green hill-side,
Remember how I hunted about the valleys wide;

Time now has worn me; my locks are turned to grey, The year is scarce, and I am poor, but send me not, love, away!

Oh, deem not my blood is of base strain, my girl,
Oh, think not my birth was as the birth of the churl;
Marry me, and prove me, and say soon you will
That noble blood is written on my right side still!

My purse holds no red gold, no coin of the silver white,
No herds are mine to drive thro' the long twilight;
But the pretty girl that would take me, poor tho' I
be and lone,

Oh, I'd take her with me kindly to the County Tyrone.

Oh, my girl, I can see 'tis in trouble you are

And oh, my girl, I see 'tis your people's reproach you

bear;

I am a girl in trouble, for his sake with whom I fly
And oh, may no other maiden, know such reproach as I.

NORA OF THE AMBER HAIR.

I.

Oh, Nora, amber-coolun,
It robs me of my rest,

That my head should be forbidden
Its place upon thy breast!

It robs me of my rest, love,

And it breaks my heart and brain ;
And oh, that I could bear my dear
Across the raging main!

II.

Oh, valentine and sweetheart!
Be true to what you swore
When you promised me you'd marry me

Without a farthing store :

Oh, we'd walk the dew together,

And light our steps should be;

And Nora, amber-coolun,

I'd kiss you daintily!