The Nevada journal., 1860-09-28
THE IRIsHMAN's FAREWELL TO HIe
WIFE.

And trouble lies heavy and thick on your brow.
Then whisper, me darlin', my own heart is throb
bin,'
My soul is in throuhle Pm murthered wild pain, |
All the long weary night I've been wakin' and |
sobbin' |
Nestle close to me, darlin', and kiss me again.
Mary a-lana, long years I've been toilin,
And in winter the sweat has been froze on me
brow,
But wirra, in vain the frettin' an moiln',
have nought but my blessin' to lave wild We
now.
Mary, llama, when Pm on the wide billow,
And there's nothin' around me but wathcr and
sky,
At night I'll be thnSin those tears your pillow
Are dhrownm' the love-light that sleeps in your
eye
Mary, a lana, be tender wild Pheln,
The crather is ailin and will fret night and day,
Spake him gentle when the big tears are gatherin'
and stealin',
Thcre'll be none else to love him when am away
Mary, a-lana, I feel your heart shakin'-
Whist, me darlin'-be aisy, there's a Fargin
above;
breakn',
know he will aid us and smile on our love.
Mary, a-lana, across the big water
There is work, there is freedom, and plenty to
Ills sweet blessed country, old England's proud
daughter.
The land of the noble, the home OF the great.
Mary, lana, I love me own Erin,
'Tis the home of my childhood, the land of my
birth;
But I'll tell yc the TRUTH for lie I'D be fearin',
The iand Of the free is the sweetest on earth.
Mary, me darlin, I'm throubled to lave ye-
But the children crying and dying for bread ;
Though l worked out me life, sure it never would
save yc,
Or drive out the heavy black days from our she'd
Mary, a-lana, may God ever bless ye-
Wild health and a stout heart while am away !;
Though the heart will be absent that ever would
press yc.
There is One who will mind ye by night and by
day.
Mary, alana, the sun is rsin'-
'Tis bright blessed mornin', yet with us it is
night;
Yet, courage, me darin', though my brow your
baptism,
shinin' out from the darkness, those tear drops
are bright.
Clasp me closer alana, you've been thrue to me
ever,
The mother of me children, the wife OF me heart
Though the atween us, our souls twill ne cr
sever,
'ris I'm lovin' ye, darln', the yson we part.
Mary, a-lana, whist now wild your cryin',
Say to the Virgin, and give me smile,
Let me know that the tears on your checks were
a-dryin',
Ere left far behind me my own native isle.
mother,
day;
9th r.
May the Virgin receive us and keep US Away.
Mary, a-lana, the babies are slcepin'-
I'll kiss them goodbye before they awake;
God help them, the craythers, they'll be frettin'
and weepin'.
break.
Mary, aana, the sun is a rsin',
hear from the meadows the faint tinkling bell,
And although every moment wild you Pm prizn
Won Of 20 rom wifi m In sa1
farewell! KATE B. I.
RyuISIscENcE OF THE MASSACRE OF WYo-
wrNG.-A correspondent of the Keene, n. H.,
Sentinel writes:
Having seen in the Boston Journal no.
ticc of the death of the last supposed sur
viyor of the Wyoming massacre, give you
the following:
Amos Adams, now living in Winchester,
" H., was one of the sufferers of that time.
He was born in August 1913, in Wilkes
barre, Pa. The massacre took place July,
l77S. He says; II have seen from one to
seven human scalps on an indians back with
the long gray hair of the aged and the CLOS
sy curls of the innocent child Streaming in
the wind
At that early age he travelled on foot, in
company with his father and mother, who
each had a child younger than himself to
carry in their arms, from the Wyoming set
tlement to Firkill, a distance of about $50
miles. During their long and tedious jour
ney they were obliged to travel many miles
in the intense heat of July sun, without
single drop of water to quench teir burning
thirst. Once" he says, ave came to
marshy plains where some animal had pre-
vouslv been leaving track in the yielding
soil, in which a little muddy water had col
lected. l asked my mother if might get
down and drink it; she said l might, and
eagerly did thrust my face into the dirt
to obtain the precious muddy drop"
Even now willthe tears glisten in the old
mans eye as he tells ofbegging his parents to
pass on and leave him to die alone. with no
one to pity, and no pillow but the earth on
which to rest his aching head He is now
eighty-six years old.
SPIRITUALIsM.-If we credit the spiritual-