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One night of late, I chanced to stray, all in the
pleasant month of May,
While Morpheas did his flag displa the moon an
in the deep.
Tis on a bank, I sat me down, to hear the wood-
cock cooings ound,
The surges of the ocean wild, lulled me fast asleep
dreamt I saw brvae Brian Boroihme, who did the
Dauish force subdue,
mighty Mars he drew his sword, these words he
said to me—
" The harp melodiously shall sound, when Erin's
sons shall be unbound,
Patrick's day we'll dance around the coming
tree."
thought brave Barsfield drew up nigh, and pre-
sently made this reply—
" For Erin's cause I'll live andd e, as housands did
before,
My sword agai on Aughrim's plains, old Ireland's
rights we shall obtain,
Or if not, like Hercules, I'll leave thousands In their
gore."
I thought St. Ruth stood on the ground, and said,
" I will your monarch crown,"
Encompassed by the French around, already for he
field ;
He raised the cross, and the did say, brave boys
we'll show them gallant play,
Let no man dare to run away, but die before they
yield.
Then Billy Byrne he came there, from Ba lymanus
I declare,
Brought Wicklow, Carlow, and Kildare, that day a
his command ;
Westmeath and Cavan so do join, the county Lo t
mer ssed the Boyne
Slanə, n, and Navau al did join with Dublin
to are an.
Then Ceilly on the hill of Screen he drew his sword
both bright and keen,
And swore by all his eyes had seen, he would avenge
the fall,
For Erin's sons and daughters brave, who nobly fill
a martyr's grave,
And died before they lived enslaved, their blood for
vengeance calls
When Father Murphy he did say, behold, my Lord
I'm here to day,
With eighteen thousand pikemen gay, from Wexford,
hills so brave,
My country's fate it does depend upon yo and your
gallant friend,
And heaven will your cause defend, we'll die ere
we'll be slaves.
thought eac band played Patrick's Day, to mar-
shall all in grand array.
With cap and feather, white and gay, most warlike
to be seen,
With drums aud trumpets loud and shrill, and canon
upon every hill,
The pikemen did the valley fill to strike the fatal
blow.
When all al once appeared in sight an army clad in
armour bright,
Both front and rere, the left and right, marched
Paddy's evermore,
Their chieftains pitched their camps with skill, de
termined Irish blood to spill,
Between us ran a dreadful hill as rapid as the Norə,
A Frenchman brave rose up and said, let Erin's sons
be not afraid,
For to glory I'll the vanguard lead, with honor and
renown.
Come draw your swords along with me, and let each
tyrant bigot see,
That Erin's daughter must be free before the sun
goes down.
Along the line they raisec a shout, crying, quick
march, right about,
With bayonets fixed they all marched out to face
their darling foe,
The enəmy seemed no way shy, but with thundering
cannans go up nigh,
And thousands on the bank did iie, and blood in
streams did flow,
The enemy soon formed a square which drove our
I looked a ondp but could not find one foeman on th
plai ,
Excep what dead and wounded lay, not able for t
run away,
When I awoke it clear day—to ends M'K nna's
dream.

The Young Soldier's Farewell
             to his Sweetheart.

Farewell, my dearest Mary, for India I am
be d,
Though m p t walk we had on the
island bank around.
My love, I never forget you when I am far
away,
But many a mile I have to go across the raging
sea.
When I am on the Indian shore, a letter
will send,
To you, my blooming girl, on me you m
depen
And when you send the lines I write, I k
you'll shed a tear,
When thinking on the danger with the savage
blacks my dear.

When Johnny went to India, he took his pe
in hand
And wrote those feeli g verses, as you m
uderstand
Oh ! God be with you, Mary, these words he
then did say,
I was drunk when I calisted, and sorry the
next day.
My love, you should be sorry, you are mas
of your trade,
And thirty shillings wages each week yo
would be paid,
But now you are in danger among the save
corps,
And ten to one if ever I'll see your face, m
vil asthore.

Cheer up, my earest Mary, there's hopes
across the sea,
But for being intoxicated along with you I'd
stray,
But still I wi return to Garryowen ones
more,
Where I will sing and drink with you, and
call for punch galore.
Yes, Johnny, I know your mind, my love,
your heart is ki d and free,
I know you are quite lonesome, being far
away from me,
Besides you are danger among 'the savage
corns,
For I hear there is great slaughter upon
Indian shore.

O, Mary, I'll be with you, depend on what
say,
Yo'll see me yet in Irishtown, where I
sport and play,
We'll join our hands in wedlock's bands w
o e the least delay,
And many a friend will wish us joy upon t
wedding day.
Now I must end those verses, I hear the bu
sound,
Advance, my boys, to arms, to fight th
blacks we're bound,
And if we chance to gain the day and see ou
native shore,
Through any spree we will not lea
sweethearts an more.