, 1890-09-04


singer has nowhere received higher
honor than among the Gaels, ant
the claim of the poet in Arthur
O'Shaughnessy's ode is nowhere
more readily allowed than in Ire
land:
We are tho music makers,
And We are the dreamers OF dreams
Wandering by the lone sea breakers,
And sitting by desolate streams;
World losers and world forsakers,
| On whom the pale moon CLEANS;
ct we are the mowers and shakers
or the world forever, it seems.
With wonderful, deathless ditties
We build up the worlds great cities,
And out of fabulous story
Wefashion an empires glory.
One man with dream, at pleasure.
Shall go forth and conquer crown,
And three with now songs measure
! Can trample Kingdom down.
A breath of our inspiration
In the life of each generation,
A wondrous thing of our dreaming,
Unearthiy, impossible seeming
The soldier. the king and the peasant,
Are working together in one,
ent
And their work In the world be done.
If the revolutionary movements
OF the present century in Ireland
did little good-and it must be con-
fessed that they brought much
misery on the people-they find a
justification in the one fact that they
stimulated her Imagination and
touched the dumb lips of Ireland To
sing. The aspiretion to liberty Is a.
ennobling rs liberty itself. This
flame has been famed not only i'm
Ireland but in all countries among
which the Irish have been scattered,
and nowhere has 1t burned more
brightly than in America.
The first of Irish-American poets
was Richard Henry Wilde. He was
born in Dublin in 1850, and came to
this country when young. He be-
came attorney general of Georgia,
gress q district of that state. His
most ambitious works are now obso-
lete, but some of his lyrics, such rs
the one beginning HsMy Life is Like
Summer Rose. are still popular
particularly in the South. A poem
on .The Tomb of Napoleon" Is one
of the most noted suggested by that
theme.
Another Southerner whose fame
Is greater is Theodore O'Hara, who
is the Elegiac poet of the American
armies. His father was Kane
O'Hara, native of Ireland; his
mother was an American, o connec.
ton of the Boones,. of Kentucky,
Indeed, the one poem besides "The
Bivouac of the Dead" which sur.
wives Theodore O'Hara, Is "The Old
Pioneer" tribute to the memory
of Daniel Boone.
Charles Graham Halpine's father
was an Episcopalian Clergyman In
Meath, Ireland. Several members
of the family were in journalism
and the Rev. Nicholas j. Halpint
was himself for a time editor of the
Dublin Evening Mail. Charles be
came involved in the Young Ire
land movement, and found II advis
able to seek an asylum in this coun
try. He was for time connected
with the Boston Post, and was ai
terward on the editorial staff Of the
New York Times under Henry j
Raymond. One OF his frs
effusions in verse was an Indignant
protest published in the New York
Tribune against the Imprisonment
OH an American man-of-war of cap
tured slaves The verses, which
were attributed to Horace Greeley
began rs follows:
Tear down that Haunting lie
| Half-mast the starry flag
Insult no sunny sky
With hates polluted rag.
He Joined the Northern forcei
during the war and was adjutan
general, first on the staff of Genera
David Hunter and afterward OF
that of Major General Hal!eck. III,
drew up the order by which tn,
commander enrolled the first regi
ment of negro soldiers, and was 10
this act included In proclamation
of outlawry issued by the Southern
authorities. He left the army ,
brigadier general. His death wa
precisely like that of John Boyl,
O'Reilly. In the habit Of taking
soporifics for sleeplessness he dice
August 3, 1868, from AN overdose o
| cnlOrOtorm.
While in the army Charles Hal
pine adopted the pen-uame of "Milei
O'Reilly," under which he wrote
many of his tenderest and jollies
songs. His verses on "Sambo'i
Right to BE Kilt' did much to re
move the prejudice entertained by
the authors countryInen towarc
the negro. Nearly all the ole
soldiers are acquainted with hi
song, "We Have Drank Fiom tn,
Same Canteen." ''Jeannette'i
Hair" an exquisite love lyric
has been attributed often O
late years to joaquin Miller;
Your hair had golden gloss, Jeannette
IL was silk of the finest floss, my pet;
Twas beautiful twist falling down Il
| your wrist,
A thing to bo braided and jeweled ane
kissed
Twas the Ioveliest hair in the world
my pet.
Your eyes had hidden glory. Jean
nette, i.tf.
Revealing the dear old story, my pet;
They were gray, with that chastenet
tiuge of the sky,
| When the trout leaps quickest " snaI
! at the fly, 1t