The Irish republic. [volume] (Chicago, Ill.) 1867-18??, 1868-03-07

Went thro' the world at break meek speed;
But my mother said they were swept away,
Till q dog couldn't bark at one of their breed.
The devil once, dressed in holy guise
Tempted one of the daughters to err;
Of course, the devil threw dust in her eyes,
For she thought twas the sogoarth tempted her.
Then heretics put her up to
Against the priest-a fact my dear
But they melted away like smoke in air
Vanished inside of single year.
Not one in the parish would turn face
To the place where their house one of them sto
For the curse of the Church was about the place.
And of course they never could come to good.
All night long, till the morning rise,
The dew fell red on the cursed ground
The stars left blank o'erhead in the skies,
For rather than cross the place went round.
The corn that fell from their luckless hands,
Hid in the earth and would not grow
At night black ravens would flock the lands,
And call up the seed from the ground below.
Their cattle were killed in unknown ways
Their fences were leveled by hands unseen
One night their haggard was all ablaze.
And their four last horses houghed on the green.
And thus they rushed from bad to worse,
Till at last to the western world they went;
But they carried with them the Church's curse
They also carried the landlords rent.
The priest then got their land and house.
And purifier farm could not be found,
Well stocked with racing steeds and cows,
I And the taken off the ground.
Don't shake your hoary head at me;
You were always strong in your unbelief-
Flew in the face of God; but, see,
He has brought you and your seed to grief.
Hisfathers father came to grief.
And so did yours. in the Bloody Days.
While safe in the barque of our old belief,
Mine rode through in the neutral ways.
As forth they went at McCracken's call
Unwinding the thread of an olden dream,
And weaving it into their shroud and pail.
Lit with Libertys phantom CLEAN
They shook their spears in my fathers face
And shook their banners above his head
And called him spawn of traitor race,
And worm that preyed on the nations dead.
But God watched over my father then,
And brought his foes to their stubborn knees;
He set on their trail Lord Blaney smen,
Who could smell rebel against the breeze
Next day they were dragged into Antrim town,
And each rebel pike held its owners head;
Black Owens locks were all dabbled brown.
And your fathers brown were dripping red.
This great revenge was so sweet to him,
For year he came to them day by day,
Saw the rain beat their faces grim,
And their locks blown by the wind away.
Your mother fed thro the starless night
To the friendly hills where the hunted gather.
And in the glare of her rooftree's light
You were born that night on the heather.
Instead of thanking her God for life,
And stunning the way of sin. she went
On the same red road of blood and strife,
And filled your heart with her discomfort
Of Liberty" were the lullabies
With which she rocked her babe to rest;
You drank in hate from her fearful eyes,
And rebel milk from her rebel breast.
And thus you grew with wild desires
Blossoming out in sinful fruit.
THAT the sons should follow the murdered sres,
Or weed out the Saxon, branch and root"
Your father died without Mass or priest,
Cut off in the red blown bloom of strife;
Mine went to heaven, as to a feast,
Dressed in the robes of holy life.
Your son has followed your fathers path,
And tempted the ire of an angry Lord:
He has persisted beneath His mighty wrath
He has fallen beneath His fiery sword.
taught my boy to shun the road
Where Freedom points up to the sun,
And take the level, with life's load,
Where wheels in grooves all golden run.
Twas thus, in one harmonious slide,
Along the grooves of royal grace
II Id or,1o Ga1