The examiner. [volume] (Louisville, Ky.) 1847-1849, 1847-06-19


- Fr.e,.ns. -
Poor Ireland "A sad and bitter fate has been
/ thine With soil as rich and climate as ge-
NAL as any earth knows, and with as true hearts
as ever beat in human bosom, { cold and rink
oppression has made all these blessings mock
cry or acurse- NsoppOr,unisy has been given
the Irish peasanttO rise in the scale of manhood;
and had it not been for their inbred valor, and
unconquerable giadness Of spirit, they had long
ago benehed before landlord supremacy. But
lrishmen were not born 10 be serfs, and if they
are not they will soon be free.
Heretofore, Great Britain and the civilized
world, in part, have turned a deaf ear to Ire-
lands home champions. No matter what they
said or did, the cry Of demagogue and partisan.
went far to silence their suggestions, and destroys
their plans. And even now, when the voice of
humanity compels the British Government and
British public to administer TO the wants of Ire-
Land, not a single step has been taken, legisls-
tice!y, to root out the cause of the difficulty,
namely, to put the people in a right position, by
changing, legally, the monstrous system, by
means of which the landowners of Ireland,
whether they will it or not are made the rank
est of human oppressors.
Starvation has been, in part, the bitter blight
Of Ireland. We mourn over it; but we rejoice
also; for that starvation will do for Ireland what
half century of struggling could not have
effected. The English people understand now
what taey never understood before--that all the
Irish people need is TO possess in fee part of the
land to become as prosperous, iOurishing and
happy, as any portion of the empire. And they
will force their government TO do justice TO the
Irish people by demanding radical change in
the management and distribution of property in
Ireland.
see what they have affected already. Every
man in the British Parliament has looked main
Iy TO one end-tO the saving of Irish landlords
anu not to the uplifting Of the Irish people
W aste lands were to be Observation-Disclosures
built through large estates-but the land-own-
ers, though so directly benefited, were not even
called upon by law TO furnish the means of sub
sistence or employment to the people on these
estates. But thanks to the energy of the Eng
fish Press, and the yirtuous determination of the
; English people, this narrow and selfish policy
has bean thwarted, and We may look soon for
change in the laws of Ireland, which will give
5 to Irish energy all the freedom and opportunity
now enjoyed by English enterprise.
The woes Of Erin, then, will prove her re-
demPtiOn. In this spirit, evidently, one of the
best of England's poets thus sings to the sister
) Isle
THE WOE OF ERIN.
. BT GooDwYs BARxsY.
! Throned upon the gloomy summit
ofs bogIAnd's Iurfy pile,
Erin sat; while wicklows mountain.
Gave no sunny summer smile.
# Sad she sat; she swsyed no sceptre.
On her head no crown she wore; +.
Near her lay broker .spling.
! Aud three withered leaves she bore.
Wild her Locks flowed o 'er her shoulders,
Streaming DER her white breasts bare,
Dry and foodless for her children
MIA ~As not, but tears there.
Flowed her tears, like waves Of shannon
When the winter winds are bleak:
Coursed her tears, Al waves Of shannon
e Chase eSrh other, down her cheek.
I, Vet, though all was dark and dreary,
Was her harp beside her slung.
Though alas, harp string only
Could TO music 5 tones lie Tunf
Other wires they all were broken,
. Dmmed with and red with rust:
But the Torn, lone string glesmed brightly,
Like the soul above The dust.
Fen one large tear Of the number
On the one unbrokeh wire.
And there wept note OF music.
4 Like waiting cry in Ire.
a Then shs kissed her only hsrp-nrins.
And lis lone, Torn she runs
=. With her wan and trembling hnger-,
And she sadly signing sang
% Woe !, Erin NO. is Erin
Sorrow, sorrow is her name,
u Crowniess. sceptreless, and broken,
Is her h~rP's once glorious fame
Woe !. Erin woe is Erin'
Barren mother Of her young
d Mnkle-si foodless, for her childrep-
Dry hes breasts, and psrchsd her tongue
= Woe i Erin We Is Erin
q Psrehe' "sr tongue and bosom dry,
Her own she cannot suekIs
And her e..Idren muke-- die
= Woe Is Erin woe IL Ernl
Ia God dssftha, God is dumbl
Is no one sent TO her1
Then death o Saviour come"
n. Thus she sung, until whh s1bbins.
Only this plant family came
Woe 10 Ernl woe Is Erin
! sorrow, sorrow h her hsms'''
" But there rushed seros, the wstsr
/ The full echo Of voice;
I. And twas thus Britannia shouted
To the sister OF her choice
d ''lwin give thy babes my breasts, Erin
e For feel mothers sigh
will give thy babes my milk, Erin
And thy children shall not de"
~,
ie Gossip.
y Kenny Meadows deserves medal for his ricl
!. design of Village Gossip. II is capital thing
-Four women are grouped together evidently ca
a ger to hear news and Just from work. The on,
y who relates the startling gossip has her hanc
partly over her mouth, telling the wonderful
!, news a great secret, while the listeners, viii
eyes fairly popping out in amazement, and hand
is uplifted, stand awe-struck at It's importance
r And what think you, reader, the subjec
e matter If this Oossn7 Inst what ~ tha an hisc