The Irish republic. [volume] (Chicago, Ill.) 1867-18??, 1867-08-03
POETRY.
.1aeI e. < Written for The Irish Republic.
Songs of the Old Towns.
s aTHE9ATHLoNE FIDDLER"

Sure love every stone In Its walls Tor MS sake T.
fellow SO drol, he could fatter your soul, f:t
To weep at wedding, or laugh at wake.
He could bother blue care, with wild Irish air y
Oh days of our youth that gone in the Wind 81
How like those sweet airs we have trpped up sairs*
And left but the grief of remembrance behind.
We worshiped his nane for like sunshine he came,
And lit up the house. from the roof to the floor; H5a
AS he sat the flag, and pulled out his bag m 4
Black grief like shadow passed out at the door {
"Take your place in the middle while tune up Fiddle"
Tring! tring "Nely Grogan, hold on to my coat,
While lay down the dure the old earhen fure, -
For my heart like thrush autters up my throatadl
Now this Fiddle belonged to queer vagabond,
Who killed black cat to make the fiddle strings;
And the bow a wand which he tore from the hand
OF fairy, who sat CLOSING down her gold wings Z II
And the hair all white he had pucked of night aa
That he rode roaring drunk with his face the wrong way
DER the heights of Panassus from the tail of Pegasus
: Signs on he's bobtail to this very day. =,
The rosin oozed out from evergreen sprout s5 5f
That had sprung at the call of the Orpheus Tyre; ii o
And the bridge bless eyes, was that old bridge of
signs,
That doth stretch from Loves lips the lips Of Desire
The back and the belly made by Tim Kelly h- 2tI
Who sooth'd with his music the of the Gael 9a Is
And Time had sdbdued every note harsh rude, ID zea
Till its voice sang sweet the thrush In the VALE
This Fiddle had played for man. woman and maid sdj
From the wales of the South the hills of the North
And all the light heels to cutting out reels, ,
When from its green baize, Pat OLone drew it FORTH
At the click of its strings, Dan ORaffery springs
Half mile in the air, as tho shot at the moon;
And mad with delight, often danced the long night, z
And growled the morning for coming soon. 5agl
Sure the midnight has seen Knockmores fairy green,
\ .-IlI III
On tierce for a throne, sat Paddy OLone 3'
His hair white as moonlight blown out by the breeze:
Bewitching the swains with the wildering strains ID.
Of planxties and reels this werd violin;
The old half in tears, for the long vanished years;
And the young heels and hearts, light without and within
Oh, melodies rare played at patron and fair W III H..
BY fdders, and danced on some old barn door; -. :
Wild Irish, and sweet, long before you were beat
Into dull English cadence by Englifed Moore.
When Mary, Hannah thrum on the piano, e.s4 2ii'S
You NOPE from prison. like freenen in chains; '9a
For you feel of place mong their coldheared
Yet theyweep while you weep for your own native plains
But to see you home must the sea oam bdE
When the summer moon shines Knockmore's fairy
81. green; KS .7fl-af 14oV 4iiis 4a'eh 2as
IT'S there you leap out, with spring and shout asn8
Then melt down in signs to the gait of queen. >
Where the hearts all around echo back evry sound,
And Sorrow is crowned and led capering in,
Half laughter and sighs and mrth in her eyes,
And all from the tones of this old VIOLIN
Old Paddy OLone to wedding had gone,
Came home rather booty, and sat by the fire; -
AS he looked in the blaze he thought of old days, M ~
And he sighed he thought of the grave drawing higher
He thought of the girls with bright eyes and long eqr
And the brave boys away Ger the wide rolling deep
Who had danced his fiddle up outside, down the middle
And then with his head on his breast went to sleep
N y X \ T. Y
" Arise, Paddy DEAR" said voice in his ear -
An echo, he thought, of the days that were gone
THE sun has gone down, and all over the town
The bonfres blaze out on the Feast of st. john"
Trpped sas-gone stairs OF the stars