MarghAiriAd 19ghi theore INGHI¶

b 1 եւ 11.

Cearbhallán ró chán.

2 Mhárzháiriad Brún, is dúbhách do fházbháis mé,

Mo luíghe 's an n-uáigh 's gán cúmhdách mná orm féin, Fuil '313Koileadh dhámh-sa « d-túis K's « n-deireadh 3ích lé,

2's Inghin Mheic Yuibhne, < púin dhil, tártháigh mé.

Ghlukiseks 'núnn da̸r liom fá 'n tráth-so A n-dé,

FK'n g-coill chróím, zo cínnte b' árd mo léim ;
Mo leabhrún grúnn Kg ínnsin fáth gách sgéil,
Is eagal liom gur mhill do ghrádh-sa̸ me.

's ́í Már'iad an Kindeúr shéímh is chóíne glór,

Is binne beul 'ní guth n« d-téud K's 'ná ná fígh

cheoil,

PEGGY BROWNE.

BY THOMAS FURLONG,

Oh ! dark ! sweetest girl, are my days doom'd to be,

While

my

heart bleeds in silence and sorrow for thee :

In the green spring of life to the grave I go down,
Oh ! shield me and save me, my lov'd Peggy Browne.

I dreamt, that at evening my footsteps were bound,
To yon deep spreading wood where the shades fall

around;

I sought, ʼmidst new scenes, all my sorrows to drown, But the cure of my sorrow rests with thee, Peggy

Browne.

'Tis soothing, sweet maid, thy soft accents to hear,

For, like wild fairy music, they melt on the ear

Thy breast is as fair as the swan's clothed in down;
Oh! peerless, and faultless, is my own Peggy Browne,

Is gile táobh ná án eálá shéimh théidheann áir linn zách

ló,

'Gus a mhúiseach, bhéusách, ghástá, thréídhtheách ná diúltKidh mé.

dul eadar an dáir 'sa̸ eroiceánn, 'ré mheása̸im gur cruadh an céim,

Dul eádár mé Agus rúin-shea̸rc Agus grádh mo chléibh, Air chup mo lámh tháirsi Kir maidin le bánúghadh an láé Fuáir mé án stárKídhe dubh Kg zleKcKídheKcht le

gradh mo chuim.

Dear! dear is the bark, to its own cherish'd tree,
But dearer, far dearer, is my lov'd one to me:
In iny dreams I draw near her, uncheck'd by a frown,
But my arms, spread in vain to embrace Peggy Browne.