Works

Ah! must we part, my darling?
O let the days be few,
Until your dear returning
To one who loves but you!
Where'er your ship be sailing,
Think on your own love true;...

Oh, dear to old Dunolly's heart
His darling daughter seemed,
Yet when she fled, how pitiless
His bitter curse was deemed.

To death he doomed her lover true,
And swore his lowly blood...

(From The Gaelic)

The Hern at early morning cries,
Where at Sleve-gail the meadow lies.

Say, D'in's son, whom I love well,
Canst thou thereof the reason tell?
...

With their deep voice, monotonous and slow,
The cannon's thunders roll along the sea;
But 'tis in reverence, and to work no woe
Those sounds here reach the shore and onward flee...

Best beloved of ancient stories
Are our Diarmid's woes to me.
Like a mist, by breezes broken,
So this tale of olden glories
Floats in fragments, as a token
Of the song of Ireland's sea.
...

Wet, cheerless was our bivouac last eve, but still we spoke
Of fighting and of winning, to-morrow, when day broke:
That day the thundering echoes of cannon in our front...

Grey-cowled monk, whose faith so earnest
Guides these Indians' childlike hearts,
As their hands to toil thou turnest,
Teaching them the Builder's arts,
Speak thy thought! as now they gather...

[Note: The Gaelic spelt as by Dewar.]

Do reir beulaithris ann an linn Righ Artair bhi ann an Duneidean,
bha Triath urramach Eirinneach a chuir tigh d'dean air...

Here Rose and Magnolia
Our dearest enshrine,
The prayer of the south wind
Is thine and is mine,
For Child and for Mother
Here sweetly twice isled,
Brave Seamen are praying...

Not home to land and kindred wast thou brought,
Nor laid 'mid trampled dead of battle won,--
Nor after long life filled with duty done
Was thine such death as thou thyself had'st sought!...

Now of the hard strait of the Feinne this legend's verse shall tell:
When Fionn's men had fought and won, and all with them was well,
And victory on Erin's shores had given spoil which they...

A brother's eye had seen the grief
That Duart's lady bore;
His boat with sail half-raised flies down
The sound by green Lismore.
Ahaladah, Ahaladah!
Why speeds your boat so fast?...

Colin, Chief of Diarmid's kin,
Strode alone to Ederlinn.

Night, and heath, and deep morass
Hear the chain-mailed warrior pass.

Ambushed lay the treacherous foe,...

[Manitoba, Assiniboia, Saskatchewan, Athabasca, Alberta, and British Columbia.]

At a feast in the east of our central plains,
Girt with the sheaths of the wheaten grains,...

There's a warrior hunting o'er prairie and hill,
Who in sunshine or starlight is eager to kill,
Who ne'er sleeps by his fire on the wild river's shore,
Where the green cedars shake to the white rapids' roar....

For a while the salt brine leaves me
O'er my terraced rocks to fall,
And my broad swift-gliding waters
Olden memories recall.

Ere the tallest pines were seedlings...