THE KISSING STONE.

11

beautiful "groves of Blarney," so celebrated in song, are suffered to become a rank and desolate wilderness. The "grove" is composed of laurel trees, of singular size and luxuriance of growth, under the shade of which are various cool grottoes, the whole presenting a scene, in its way, of unrivalled beauty.

The "kissing stone" is placed at one corner of the highest battlements of the castle. I was never able to trace the origin of the privileges which every one is aware are to be derived from a salute bestowed upon it; but that origin cannot be of a very remote era, as the stone itself bears the date of 1703. The donjon, the witches' stair, and the cave which runs under the Castle, to, it is said, an immense extent, and where "cats and badgers for ever breed," are the curiosities pointed out to the inquisitive stranger.

As the rude herdsman who guided us shewed the entrance to the latter, I asked him if he knew the song called the "Groves of Blarney"?

"Sure, and 'tis jist I who does," replied Pat, who, by the offer of sixpence, was induced to repeat, in a drawling nasal tone, the

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THE GROVES OF BLARNEY.

following lines, which I took down at the time, and which, as they differ from the usual "polished" edition, I here add for the reader's amusement and edification:—

The groves of Blarney, they were so charming,
All in the puddling of sweet silent brook;
There is daisies, and sweet carnations,
The blooming pink, and the rose so fair,
The daffydilly, beside the lily,

All flowered on the sweet rock close.

'Tis Lady Jefferys as owns this nation
She's like an Alexander, a rose so fair,

She's castles round her, where no nine pounder
Can touch or plunder her place of strength.
'Tis Oliver Cromwell that did her pummel,
And made a breach in her battlement.

There's the lake well stored with perches,
The comely eels in the virgin mud.
Besides the leeches, and the groves of beeches,
That were planted in order agin the flood.

There's the cave where no daylight enters,
But cats and badgers for ever breed;
The moss by nature, which makes it swater
Than the coach and six, and a bed of down.

THE GROVES OF BLARNEY.

There's statues gazing, this noble place in—
All gods and heathens, and nymphs so fair.
Now, to finish my brave narration-

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Bould Neptune's standing quite naked in the open
air.

There's the kitchen, how many a flitch in,
The maids are stitching upon the stair.
There's the whisky, besides the biscuit,

Which would make you frisky if you were there.

'Tis there you'd see Pat Murphy's daughter
Washing praties furnint the door-

Judy Carey, and Peggy Leary,

All blood related to Lord Dunamore.

*. On taking a final leave of Ireland, though candour may oblige the author to aver that he did not like those portions of it which he had visited, as a military residence, and though misgovernment may have produced the scenes of misery he mentions, still he cannot help bearing witness to the sound, sterling character of the sons of Erin, as well as to the amiable qualities of her fair daughters; and whilst the name of Ireland exists, it may be confidently affirmed that it will ever be associated with Genius and Valour-with Beauty and Virtue.

At sea-Cape Spartel-Detained in the Gut by easterly winds-Account of departure from CorkEmbarkation scenes-Head quarters of the regiment embark on board the "Prince Regent" at Cove-Steaming down the river-Beauty of the banks-Get under weigh-Sea-sickness-Miseries on board a troop ship-Little attention paid to the comforts of troops on board ship-Cintra hillsCape St. Vincent-Coast of Barbary.

October 14, 1837, off Cape Spartel.

HERE we have been for the last three or four days, tacking about in the vain endeavour to round Cape Spartel, and with our destination almost in sight, unable to reach it, owing to an adverse easterly wind.

I have often observed that the nearer we are to the accomplishment of our wishes, the more we feel annoyed at being unexpectedly thwarted

LEAVING QUARTERS.

15

in their fulfilment. This is particularly the case in a long voyage, at the commencement of which we can most philosophically put up with calms, adverse winds, and every other annoying delay; but only bring us within sight of port, and then arrest us in our forward career, and the punishment of Tantalus is instantly inflicted, whose imaginary pangs must have been devised by one intimately conversant with the workings of the human mind. Such has for some time past been our situation, and it can easily be imagined how much it has put us all out of humour.

The bustle occasioned by a regiment leaving quarters where it has been stationed for a length of time, exceeds anything which the uninitiated can imagine; and this is greatly increased when, on the point of quitting the shores of its native land, it is about to be separated from every tie, to encounter the dangers of the ocean, and all the perils and chances incident to foreign service, even in these peaceable times. The scenes which then present themselves are interesting and painful to a high degree. Followers who have attached