D’ólfainn-si geinidhe, le mnáibh breágh ’na finne,
’S ní feárr ’ná mar do shinnfinn, le bárraibh mo méar,
Coróinn ariamh na sgillinn, ni dhearnaidh me dhe chruinneas,
Acht léigeann do silleadh mar dhruchd air an bh-féur.—
’Nois ó tá mé ag imtheacht, ’s gan n-dán damhsa filleadh,
Mo dhá ghadhairín oinich, fagfaidh me a’m dheígh,
Sud mnáibh agus leinbh ag éud agus ann iomadh,
Fágfaidh me-si an t-seilg air an ait aca féin.
1BESIDE THE SUIR.
This fine River has been the theme of many a song. In the present allegorical poem the genius of Ireland appears on its banks, predicting "in sweet accents" the coming of the
————"hero, to sweep from the coast
The ruthless, false-hearted heretical host."
No liberal, or well informed Protestant of the present day can be surprised at these strong expressions of the past, if he call to his recollection the cruel persecutions which the Irish suffered, and the sweeping confiscations of their estates since the days of Elizabeth. Until a recent period, arms and penal laws were the principal instruments of the Reformation in Ireland. With us it literally became the "holy faith of Pike and Gun." Is it then to be wondered at that this faith made no progress in Ireland, or that the people have expressed themselves of it and its professors in the language of our poem? Respect for the sacred name of religion and its ministers, of whatever denomination, here prevents serious developements,
