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To win your eyes, to woo your touch,
And on your lips to melt away!

Were I a rose, in some fair bower,
By thee selected from the rest;

To triumph in thy choice an hour,
And die-upon thy snowy breast.

Tá scKoth-bhácháill bhuídhe-chásdá, fhior-dhea̸sa

Air scáile An óir,

A's ríghin-dhe<rcá, A's mín-zhláca, cíoji-thána

Cnkimh 'n beól,

'Gus grís-leaca, píob-shneachdá, cíoch-cháilce

Aici, bláthnáið óg,

Théibh-thaná mín-ghea̸la̸, a̸ir lí eala

Go trácht A bróg.

Adown her back in curls are roll'd,

Her yellow hair like beams of gold;

Her downy hands- her full blue eye,

Her teeth, like fine set ivory,

Such is my lovely maid:

Like kindling flame her blushing cheek,
Swan-like her majesty of neck;

Her bosom white as earthless snow,

Are few of all the charms that glow

In my beloved Blanaid.

Blanaid was a celebrated Irish beauty of antiquity. For her interesting history, and tragical end, see our Irish Herodotus, Keating.

MOLLY ASTORE.

The air of Molly Astore, is one of the most popular in these islands. Burns called it "a heavenly air." Although it has been more fortunate than most of our native strains, in meeting with English words, yet it is confidently hoped, that its original Irish stanzas will be found no way inferior to any of those, with which it has been hitherto associated in English.

General Vallancey, one of the few Englishmen, whose memory ought to be dear to the Irish, was so delighted with the music of Molly Astore, that, in his enthusiasm, he very gravely undertook the derivation of the name, and traced it to the most remote antiquity. He tell us, from Diodorus Siculus, that Bel or Baal was the Jupiter of the east, whose wife, the Juno of the latter, was Astarte; and that these were, 66 the Irish Beal and Astore-th, the latter pronounced Astore.” Mr. Trotter tells us, that the song was composed "at the period of Cormac Mac Con, a century before Christianity." Again, he says, "It It is with some probability, supposed to have been addressed to Astoreth, called in Irish, Astore, the Venus of the Phoenicians." Vallancey was perfectly serious, but Trotter could hardly have been so; particularly, as he soon after adds, "It is evidently, however, the production of the purest era of Irish song, as it has the general character of its sweet and touching melody."

English verses have been frequently written to this air. The late George Ogle, member of parliament for Wexford, was

author of a pleasing song, beginning, "As down by Banna's banks I strayed," whose principal charm lies in the Irish termination of each stanza:

"Ah Gramachree ma Colleen oge
Ma Molly Astore-"

Our celebrated countryman, Sheridan, also wrote to this air, the sweet little song in the Duenna, “ Had I a heart for falsehood framed," The sentiments of "How oft Louisa,” in the same comedy, are said to have been borrowed from another Irish song, beginning with the following stanza :

A Anná chkom Kelkide mhin tsukire,

A ruin mo chleibh, ná dean mi dukire

Tabháir fKoiseámh don pheinsi táoi dom chukirt,

'Y da m-budh liomsa̸ Eire <'d deig 's me An trukzh.

"The Plains of Nair."-In the county of Meath there is a In it was lake, which was anciently known by this name. drowned Turgesius, the Danish Tyrant, by Maolseachlan King of Meath, A. D. 844.-See Annals of Ulster.

CATHERINE TYRRELL.

Catherine Tyrrell, was a member of the ancient and respectable family of that name, formerly residing at the Pace, (Tyrrell's Pass) in the county of Westmeath. The lake, called in the original "Erril" is probably a mistake for Ennil," one of the most extensive and beautiful of the numerous fine lakes in that county.

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The fair object of this popular and favorite song has been celebrated in other poetical effusions. Of one of these the following is a fragment:

'I tru<gh gheur gán me-si Kgus Chtáilín T’ríkll, 'Kr suidhe no 'n-a̸r sea̸sadh, ag geátáibh bh’la'-clíáth An oidhche bheith Kguinn chomh fada re blíáin, A's me sínte Kir leábá le Kinnfir ná g-ciábh.

Few of our national airs are better known than " Youghal Harbour," which bears a strong resemblance to “Caithlin Tirriall." The original words of that favorite rustic ballad, have been thought worthy of preservation; with that view they are here inserted :

eochaill.

Maidin dómhnaich A's mé ag dul go h-Eócháill,
Casadh An óig-bheán orm 's An t-slígh ;—
A gruddh Kir lásádh már rós A n-gáirdín,
'Y bá bhinne « béilín 'ná ceóltá fíghe :—
Leáz mé lámh Kir A brágha̸id le fórsa̸,

Agus d'iarr mé póízín Kir stór mo chroídhe,
's é dúbháirt sí, “ sta̸d A's ná stróic mo chloicín,
'S níl fios mo dhóla̸is Ag nea̸ch 's An t-sa̸óígheKl.”

Hí'l Achd uair bhea̸g ó d'fha̸ig me-si Eocháill,

A's dúbhkirt mo stór liom zán filleadh Krís ;— 'S gur cailín scoithte me tá ág súbhhl An bhótháir, Az iárra̸dh a̸n eóláis go Ceapadh-Chóínn ;—

' Kimhdheóin « n-geállánn tú de gách uile shórt damh, Hi zhnidhim de d' zhlórthaibh Acht cómhrádh báoír' A's dá scíóílfeá bháile mé gán fiúdh ná m-bróga, Fuárás cómhairle gán do lea̸námháin choidhche.

Ag so mo lámh dhuit nách bh-fuilim póstá,

'S gur butchKill óg me thug geán do mhnáóí; 'Y dá n-gluáisfeá liom-sa̸ Kir d-tús zo h-Eócháill,

dar leam, d'ar n-dóich! budh leat Lóistín oidhche :Chuirfinn high cául cáp ort, « g-ce<rt 's A g-cóir, Gúnadh, clóca Agus cKipisinn,

Piopa drámánná m-bia̸dh fíon A's beóir Ann,
A's búibín óz do bheith 5 diúl do chíoch.

1 COOLIN.

The air of this song is, by many, esteemed the finest in the whole circle of Irish music. It is much older than the words of our text, which have been attributed to Maurice O'Dugan, an Irish bard, who lived near Benburb, in the county of Tyrone, about the year 1641. There are several sweet stanzas in Irish to this charming air, but the present are the best known, and most popular. "Coolin" means, the maiden of fair flowing locks, but the original word is retained in the translation, being now, as it were, naturalized in English. The following is the first stanza of a spirited version of this song, made by our learned and talented countryman, the late Mr. Clinch, in the year 1792 :

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