KATHLEEN.

167

KATHLEEN.18

O NORAH, lay your basket down,
And rest your weary hand,
And come and hear me sing a song
Of our old Ireland.

There was a lord of Galaway,
A might lord was he;
And he did wed a second wife,

A maid of low degree.

But he was old, and she was young,

And so, in evil spite,

She baked the black bread for his kin,

And fed her own with white.

She whipped the maids and starved the kern, And drove away the poor;

"Ah, woe is me!" the old lord said,

“I rue my bargain sore!”

This lord he had a daughter fair,

Beloved of old and young,
And nightly round the shealing fires
Of her the gleeman sung.

"As sweet and good is young Kathleen

As Eve before her fall

So sang the harper at the fair,

So harped he in the hall.

"O, come to me, my daughter dear!
Come sit upon my knee,

For looking in your face, Kathleen,
Your mother's own I see!"

He smoothed and smoothed her hair away,

He kissed her forehead fair; "It is my darling Mary's brow, It is my darling's hair!"

O, then spake up the angry dame,
"Get up, get up," quoth she,
"I'll sell ye over Ireland,

"I'll sell ye o'er the sea!

99

!"

She clipped her glossy hair away,
That none her rank might know,
She took away her gown of silk,
And gave her one of tow,

And sent her down to Limerick town,
And to a seaman sold

This daughter of an Irish lord

For ten good pounds in gold.

The lord he smote upon his breast,
And tore his beard so gray;
But he was old, and she was young,
And so she had her way.

Sure that same night the Banshee howled

To fright the evil dame,

And fairy folks, who loved Kathleen,
With funeral torches came.

She watched them glancing through the trees,
And glimmering down the hill;
They crept before the dead-vault door,
And there they all stood still!

"Get up, old man! the wake-lights shine!" "Ye murthering witch," quoth he, "So I'm rid of your tongue, I little care If they shine for you or me."

KATHLEEN.

“O, whoso brings my daughter back,
My gold and land shall have!"
O, then spake up his handsome page,
"No gold nor land I crave!

"But give to me your daughter dear,
Give sweet Kathleen to me,

Be she on sea or be she on land,
I'll bring her back to thee.”

"My daughter is a lady born,
And you of low degree,

But she shall be your bride the day
You bring her back to me.

He sailed East, he sailed West,
And far and long sailed he,
Until he came to Boston town,
Across the great salt sea.

"O, have ye seen the young Kathleen,
The flower of Ireland?

Ye'll know her by her eyes so blue,
And by her snow-white hand!”

Out spake an ancient man, "I know
The maiden whom ye mean;
I bought her of a Limerick man,
And she is called Kathleen.

"No skill hath she in household work,
Her hands are soft and white,
Yet well by loving looks and ways
She doth her cost requite."

So up they walked through Boston town,
And met a maiden fair,

A little basket on her arm
So snowy-white and bare.

169

"Come hither child, and say hast thou
This young man ever seen?”
They wept within each other's arms,
The page and young Kathleen.

"O, give to me this darling child,
And take my purse of gold."
"Nay, not by me," her master said,
"Shall sweet Kathleen be sold.

“We loved her in the place of one
The Lord hath early taʼen :
But, since her heart's in Ireland,
We give her back again!”

O, for that same the saints in heaven
For his poor soul shall pray,
And Mary Mother wash with tears
His heresies away.

Sure now they dwell in Ireland,
As you go up Claremore

Ye'll see their castle looking down

The pleasant Galway shore.

And the old lord's wife is dead and gone,

And a happy man is he,

For he sits beside his own Kathleen,
With her darling on his knee.

FIRST-DAY THOUGHTS.

IN calm and cool and silence, once again
I find my old accustomed place among

My brethren, where, perchance, no human tongue

Shall utter words; where never hymn is sung, Nor deep-toned organ blown, nor censer swung, Nor dim light falling through the pictured pane! There, syllabled by silence, let me hear

The still small voice which reached the prophet's

ear;

Read in my heart a still diviner law
Than Israel's leader on his tables saw!
There let me strive with each besetting sin,
Recall my wandering fancies, and restrain
The sore disquiet of a restless brain;
And, as the path of duty is made plain,
May grace be given that I may walk therein,
Not like the hireling, for his selfish gain,
With backward glances and reluctant tread,
Making a merit of his coward dread,—

But, cheerful, in the light around me thrown,
Walking as one to pleasant service led;
Doing God's will as if it were my own,
Yet trusting not in mine, but in his strength alone!

KOSSUTH.19

TYPE of two mighty continents!-combining The strength of Europe with the warmth and glow

Of Asian song and prophecy, the shining

Of Orient splendors over Northern snow! Who shall receive him? Who, unblushing, speak Welcome to him, who, while he strove to break The Austrian yoke from Magyar necks, smote off At the same blow the fetters of the serf,Rearing the altar of his Father-land

On the firm base of freedom, and thereby Lifting to Heaven a patriot's stainless hand, Mocked not the God of Justice with a lie!