Surely you are my wife and brother-
My only child—my father and mother-
My outside coat I have no other!

Oh ! I'll stand by you—while I am able.

If family pride can aught avail,
I've the sprightliest kin of all the Gael-
Brandy and Usqnebaugh, and ale!

But claret untasted may pass us.
To clash with the clergy were sore amiss,
So for righteousness' sake I leave them this,
For claret the gownmen's comfort is,

When they've saved us with matins and masses.

VOL. 1.

'si mo chreach! bEAH CHEAHHAIZhe

HA Feile.

Air ghuth "Imbó K's Umbó.”

'Tí mo chreach ! beán cheánnáighe ná féile ! 'YA mheirge mhúirneách, mo ghrádh féin tú, Fada liom-sa tim do 'd éuzmáis,

'I ní fhácáidh mé o'n n-ám-so n-dé thú,

Hí h-iongnadh dhámh-sá bheith gho déurách,

'Y zur phós mé « 3-cionn mo dhá bhliadháin déug thú,

'Y nách n-deárnás ria̸mh d'Athrúghádh chéile,

Chionn már do bhéurthá mo thoil féin dámh,

'Y zur shaoil me nách scárfáinn zo h-éuz lekt.—

Hi h-é so amháin máith d’K n-déánfádh,
Tráth ghea̸bhadh cách thú a̸ir clár már fhéirín ;

An té bhídhe ́s bocht do ghnídh tú skídhbhip,

ODE TO DRUNKENNESS."

BY THOMAS FURLONG.

Oh! drunkenness, spouse belov’d, where dost thou stray?

Here in thy absence stupidly I pine;

For since we parted this time yesterday,

Och! many a black and bitter thought was mine;

I wedded thee all freely and light hearted,

Ere I had counted even to my twelfth year;

I lik'd thee--for each ugly care departed,

Each big blue devil' flew off when thou wert near;

I vow'd all constancy, and kept my vow,

But Oh! sweet spouse, what signifies it now?

Wide is thy range, but greater still thy power,

A worker of wild wonders sure thou art;

Strange are thy freaks in that most merry hour,

When the full cup comes forth to warm the heart;
Oh! many a miracle thou hast effected,
Where jolly ones at table were collected.

'S an té bhiadh brúide«mhuil bhiadh sé méinneamháil, 'Yan té bhiadh cruádh do zhlukisfeádh féile Ann, An t-é bhiadh sántách, Amscáidh, sáoghalta, bhiadh sé grea̸nnmhár, fonnmhár, méadhrách.—

'Y maith do mhúin tú dhámh a bheith tréidheách, . 2[ 8-teáng( mo mhátháp y ann sách béupl, Anois, fára̸oír! zídh tkóím zán Kén smid !—

d'inneoskinn páirt de'd thréidhibh ;

Is uáisle tú i0ná síol Eabha,

'Y do bheurs dḥ bua̸dh Kir fheúráibh Eirea̸n,

An t-é bhidhe ́s ciúin do ghnídh tú báoth é,

An t-é bhídheás óg do ghnídh tú Kosdá,
A's óg Krís An té is léithe.—

buadh beag oile nách ínním féin ort,

Hí fházhánn tu locht a̸ir lea̸bá ná úir éa̸dách,
Hí feárr leát an dorus 'ná an ghabhal-éadain.—

An trách d'eirghíd Amách á n-diúidh an fhéustá,
Yiúbhlaid An oidhce zo h-Kizeántách Kédhrách,

Chang'd by thy touch, the poor quite rich become,

The low get lofty, and the timid bold; Cripples get legs—speech bursts upon the dumb,

And youth and vigour bless the weak and old ;

The smile of joy steals o'er the face of trouble,
And folks, with hardly half an eye, see double.

By thee the miser's purse is open'd wide;

The dolt, the dunderhead, thou renderest witty ; ”Tis thine to lend meek lowliness to pride,

Or melt the stony selfish heart with pity; Even old hell-daring weather-beaten sinners,

When mov'd by thee, in grace become beginners.

How oft have I, dear spouse, inspired by thee,

Pour'd the full tide of eloquence along;

How oft have other wights been chang'd like me,

Now up now down, defending right or wrong ;

Subtle thou art, and valourous and strong.

'Tis thine to loose the slave, or bind the free,

To paralize with age the limbs of youth;

Void of all guile, with thee dwells barefac'd truth.