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(An t.Sean Bhean Bhocht).
I Von. II.-No. 14.
BELFAST, 5TH FEBRUARY, 1897.
PRICE 4TWOPENOE..-
The Song of Banba.
) This is Banba's song !
And mine is the heart hath heard it
On the night-winds borne along
Through the glistening reeds that shared it 2
" The years are sad and lonely since my palace proud was riven,
And the brave who went to war for me are dead and banished all.
Hath my glory passed for ever? Shall the foe no more be driven
From my "river-threaded valleys and my mountains towering tall?"
This is Banba's song!
The caoine for her faded splendour,
For days when her chiefs were strong
‘ . And banded to defend her:
" Faraair I Faragir‘ I the cairn is piled above Dunsaibhric's warder,
And.o'er the battle-breaking knights of Clanna Ruadhri’s race;
Taramr! no more the hosts of Firm circle the island border,
Or lift aloft the blue-black lance to guard my sovereign place."
This is Banba's song!
' She croons it by weird, gray waters-
Mourning an ancient wrong
” Ah ’Micl the phantoms of bygone slaughters :
. woe-my bitter woe! not warrior prowess bound me,
, Nor victory won by Sassanach could cast me from my throne,
A Ti“? bl’ W38-Che,ry's art and poison's guile, they slew my sons
around me, ,
And I stood to face the coward foe, undaunted and alone l"‘
This is Banba's song! I
Mine are the lips to speak it ;
‘ Let the message pass along
To the waiting hearts that seek it :
-9A5 J70wf7fs rise from the dust of graves. so a hope in my soul is
sprmging, V A
A 'I"ihat my birds that build ‘beyond the seas shall fi'y to the olden nest,
izrthe air be sweet with music in theswiftness of their zvingirzg
er the Gen! mi Gretna‘: shining trachgacross the ocean’: crest."
7’ T
An Emigrant.
AVA
HE convoy from Carrigbawn had been waiting some time at
‘ the Cross Roads to bid young,Donal Maguire God-speed on
‘V 1113 long journey across the wide seas. The women were tear-
ful, as women will be when parting is imminent, and sat
. grouped on a heap of stones under the hedge talking softly. The
23:1. strolled about in nonchalant fashion, discussing the crops, the
th'-ltlvrilg M3-Y fair, and every subject of interest to them save the one
‘ ad brought them together, while, leaning against the dry
d’ . -
. “Ch: Powdered with golden wliin-blossoms, a little red-haired girl
S0l"‘bed piteously. ,
Ah! darlin’ def?-T; stop it for the Virgin’s sake,” said one of
‘th V . -. , .
W e ‘.mme“r.1'15111g and: bending over her kindly. “How could
X
the poor boy lave at all an’ you breakin’ your heart like this.”
m"‘r.I can’t, help ‘it, Maurya,'I can’t help it, indeed,” she wailed.
is goin to hisldeath he is, an’ not to push his fortune; else
why was the banshee cryin’ round the house last night. I didn’t
hear it myself-tliey say them that’s to sup sorrow never do hear
itsbut my uncle told me this mornin’ that he followed it through
the fields in the gloamin’ till his blood turned cold with the fear
an’ the pain of listenin’.”
“ Oh, come now, Nannie, wliere’s the use of frettin’ over troubles
beforehand? Why, girleen, Donal’s a fine, strong boy-no sign of
dyin’ or sickness about him, an’ he’ll be bringin’ you over a lapful
of gold sovereigns from America some day soon, instead of goin’
off in that way. An’ maybe the cryin’ was only the wind through
Fairies’ Ring-I often get a start myself from it when the storm
is risin’.’’ '
“V0, vo,” moaned Nannie, burying her small, pale face in her
fingers, and rocking to and fro. “ Say your beads for him, Maurya
a.-cuisla, for ’tis inithe sore danger he is an’ doesn’t know it. An’
how could I tell him, oh, how could I tell him, an’ he settin’ off
so eager like. He says he’d be content to stay an’ slave on only
for me.” ‘I '
‘.‘ Why, wouldn’t he go, then, an’ it for just a few months, when
the aunt wants him, an’ has neither chick nor child to leave her.
money to but him, an’ she payin’ his passage out as well. Oh!
girl dear, but you’re foolish to make a fuss when ’tis for your good
an’ his that he’s goin’. Here, Hugh,” she called out to Nannie’s
uncle, a grave-looking man, who stepped forward from the crowd
a.s.Mauyra spoke. “What’s this talk about the banshee? Is it
dreamin’ she is, at all, at all, or did ye get a warnin’ last night, as
she says.” .
“Ay, God save us, a warnin’ came, sure enough, for somebody,
an’ when I told the colleen here, notliin’ would do her but it must:
be meant for Donal Maguire, an’ the tear hasn’t been out of her
eye ever since.“
The women crossed themselves reverently,
but Hugh Dinsmore lifted his hand in protest.
“ Don’t scoff,” he said, “for ’tis the truth, the gospel truth, I’m
I heard the White Lady cryin’, an’ I hope an’ pray the
It was ‘ocli-och-an-ee,
the men tried to smile,
tellin’ ye.
like may never strike upon my ears again-
ocli-ocli-an-ee,’ just as if the keening jwas going on, but wilder
an’ more-terrible, an’ a thousand times more despairin’ than ever
a keen could be.” i .
The women had risen from their seat on the stones, and, with
the men, stood in a circle around him. Little Nannie leaned her
head pathetically against Mauyra’s shoulder as her uncle spoke;
claspinu and unclasping her hands in silent grief. He was an un-
. D p ‘
imaginative, hard-working farmer, and this was the first time he
had been known to speak so positively regarding the supernatural.
t,” said Hugh, “last evenin’, an’ I had
“It was just at sunse
come in from settin’ potatoes in that tliree-cornered field,of mine
forenenst the house. I stopped for a minnit to look. at the sky,‘
turnin’ back on the threshold, for it was the strangest sky I re-
iinember seein’ this many a day, an’ I had been noticing it for some
hours before quittin’ work. There wor bars of red an’ bars of
black all in lines, an’ darts of flame would break through‘ them now
an’ then, as if a fire was behind, an’ burstin’ to get out.‘ It gave