The anti-monopolist. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1874-1878, 1877-10-25
MORNING ON THE IRISH COAST.
BY JOHN LOCKE SOUTHERN GAEL.

NoTE.-The incident which promp-
ted the writing of the following lines
was related to me a few days ago by
a friend who visited Ireland during
the summer, and has just returned
from there. On the voyage eastward,
my friend made the acquaintance of
an old man, who, in his frank and
candid way, told him he had been
thirty years residing in "the States,'
and that he was then going home to
spend the evening OF his life in the
Old Land. amid the scenes of his
youthhood. His anxiety to see Ireland
once more was SO deep and fervid.
that my friend took special interest
in him. The night before the boat
reached the Irish shore they remained
on deck; and as the dawning broke,
they were rewarded for the weary
vigil. The sight awakened all the
old mans slumbering enthusiasm,
and his first imprisoned exclamation
was. "The top O the mornin' to you,
Ireland, alanna !" Dublin Fishman.
Th'anam au Oh a! but there it is,
The dawn on the hills of Ireland
Gods angels lifting the nights black veil
For the air, sweet ace of my sireland
Q Ireland, isn't it grand you look,
Like bride in her rich adornin',
And with all the pent up love OF my heart.
bid you the top O the mornin'.
This one short hour pays lavishly back
Fer many a Year OF mourning.
I'd almost venture another flight,
There's so much joy in returning
Watching out for the halowed shore,
All other attractions scornn',
O Ireland, don't you hear me shout,
i bid YOU the top o the morning.
Ho, no upon Cleena shelving strand,
The surges are grandly beating,
And Kerry is pushing her headlands out
| To give us the kindly geeeting:
| Into the sh re the sea-blrdS fly
On pinions that know no dropping;
! And out from the cliffs with welcomes
charged,
, million OF waves come trooping.
| o, kindly, generous Irish land,
| Soleal and fair and loving,
No wonder the wandsr ng Celt should think
| And dream of you in his rovingl
The alien home may have gems and gold
Shadows may never have g.oomed it;
But the heart will sigh for the absent land
| Where the love-Hght first illumed it.
| And doesen I old Cove look charming there,
Watching the wild waves motion.
Leaning her back up against the hills,
And the tip of her toes on the ocean
| wonder don't hear Shandon's bells
All may be their chiming's over.
Forts many year since began
The lite OF n western rover
For thirty summers astor ma chree,
Those |
Neser met my vision, save W hen they rose
Over Memory's dim horizon.
L en- SO, twas grand and fair they seemed
In the landscape spread before me;
| But dreams are dreams, and my eyes would
ope
To see Texas sky still DER me.
Ali often upon the Texan plains.
When the day and chase were over.
Nv thoughts would fly DER the weary wave
And around this coast-line hover.
And the prayers would rise, that some future
day
| All danger and doubtings scornin'.
I'd help to win for my native land
The light of young liberty's mornins
Now fuller and truer the shore-line shows
Was ever a scene SO splendid
feel the breath of the Munster breeze,
Thank God that my exiles ended.
Old scenes, old songs, old friends again,
The vale and coil was bornin!
@ Ireland, up from my heart of hearts.
bid You the top 1.-THE mornin"