The morning star and Catholic messenger. [volume] (New Orleans [La.]) 1868-1881, 1875-10-24
the mission for the conversion Of Irish Catho-
AN APPEAL.

Heaven hath V0uCn9a1ed
Nor bid thee share with Ireland
The empire of the sea.
Leave thorn the stormy sky;
They AJAX NOT for thy harvests.
For they know how to die;
4 grave beneath the sod;
But we do cry. England
Leave them the ir faith in God!
Take If thou wilt. the earniDgs
Of the poor PEASANTS TOLL
That grows Irisb soil.
% RSS sf iss SaSa p viii mot hear
which Irish hoarts hold dear:
The sit their God has gwen;
Leave them their ancient worship.
Leave them their faith in heaven.
You come and offer learning
PsaoRaS SSsy 1h Si greatest sss .aG Blessing
That now is known to you;
B9 s.s pSs s se s sss s sss Tsnd'f'
The f fsis nth their i p fathers heidi ''
For in learning and In science
God ssu aos ask aSES 5or IL nsls
On the great judgment day.
When. in their wretched cabins,
And ike By th or tss OF children
Who ask for food in vain;
:ssd t ssss FIR !,
In q less cruel storm;
T9sn then .;a;, We 5 plead for mercy
For all We ask. o England,
Is-ieave them there to die
For which a soul is sold
Tempt not another Judas
To barter God tor Gold.
You offer food and shelter
If they their faith deny;
What do you gain, o England!
By such . shallow lie Z
Nay x a es' 5i Rss Su the shsF
he secs the misery round them,
His pity still may save them.
who In a eas s; a al h tss eR RRs1 trust
Yet knows We are but dust.
Then leave them the kind tending
Leave Thorn the gracious comfort
Which dries their mourner's tears
In whose bosom they were born,
Leave them the holy mysteries
And, amid all their trials
Let the great gift abide,
Which you, prosperous England!
And Marys gentle Aid
For which earth dearest treasures
Take back f' your s t Srioss, then. England,
Your gold is black and dim
AndV God sends plague and fdmine,
They die and go TO Him.
This is by far the most unpublished and IN
equal thing Miss Proctor has ever written, and
full of faults of detail. But spite of loose
texture and repetition, and weak lines, and
Identical rhymes, there is q strength in all the
essential features, and spirit everywhere,
that contrast strongly with the patriotic effu-
few years.
Another poem which has incidentally at
tracted no little notice is Homeward Bound,
which anticipates the whole plot of Enoch
Arden 30 completely that come shallow people
felt called upon to say number of very foolish
things about the coincidence when Enoch
Arden came ont. The chief differences are
that the shipwrecked hero is thrown on q
desert island in the one and captured by Moors
in the other. Enoch Arden also turns away
from the agonizing picture of his forfeited
home in silence, while Miss Procters mariner
reveals himself kisses his wife once more as if
she were his, and departs, leaving the very
awkward bigamy question wide open behind
him, and in general evincing noble ignorance
of the law of England. He also perpetrates
the dramatic error of surviving in state of
marine vagrancy for a quarter of century.
But, though inferior to 1enDyson'S, this poem
has many excellent touches of pathos and
nature, and must claim, equally with Enoch
Arden, the full merit of it's simple yet most
telling conception.
ApropOs of resemblances, tempted to
quoth another of her best known poems, both
minds of Longfellow, aud We should be
if some one would only tell US why {:
THE STORM.
The tempest RACES Wild and high;
The waves lift up their voice and cry
Mserere Domino.
Through the black night and driving rain,
A ship is struggling all in vain,
Misererc Domino.
The thunders roar, the lightnings glare,
Vain is strive oil dare
cry goes up of great despair,
NiseTerG Domino.
The stormy voices of the MAN,
ThemoaninR wind and peltinR rain
Beat the nursery window pane,
AiSerere Domino
Warm curtnined was the little bed
Soft plllOwed was the little head:
THE storm will wake the child" they said.
AiseTerc DORine.
Covering among his pillows white,
He prays his blue eyes dim with fright,
"FRther, those at sea tonight
Niserere DoTine.
The morning shoue all clear and gay
On o ship at anchor in the bay,
And on little child at play.
Gloria ti6i Domino!
Out of many which commend themselves, we
elect only one more, little gem which we
we're surprised and pleased to find copied the
,ther day in a little New York evening paper.
We think it very suggestive and sweet.
LOST CHORD.