Waterbury evening Democrat., 1906-03-16

Great Abbey called the foundation of saints md u of the asylum poor and the rendess became sapeess M accumulation of rubbish At present it is owned
 As ascends the hill Meifont pausing on ls along the valley of the Boyne glances quiet that aausd his soul is filled with solemn thoughts for utteapce side with oes proud chief hand in hand they the nor labor was spared that it might worthy Of Him who deigns dwell abenaces made by and generation of monks who calmly dwelt in that valley which b Sh hs @ and and converted into garden which he M e Pine in the @ of punrGs
 the cisterean Order of Monks order which founded Benedict These Monks by was Harvey Mont nha aye hs o b gran gna ana to G which about ZIG and was buried here added considerably building to south i4o The nave Was bounded b two rows of pointed arches each IS wide hg handsome which evoked national divided by mullioned piers into lights of the which h o se ses ] stands and the purng stream rushing by is thought ground the corn for the community The and black marble bearing erected na ] m % de @ once added to the ders of Daneannon destroyed this ruins Of this beautiful abbey Temple G h Hea ow ss 11 in the nave window fell In the of few pounds by the noble havoc of one the nds M s piety and ervor of the early Christian guage nothing could be more appropriate Every @ the @ nT to and @ % nd rsnS a s @ blood n M 4 be beautiful poem Tongue ought to be read and deeply m o9 as Nation November 1 Ay build ye the Kettle tongue above ocurrys grave, long light again Freedoms altar dead Who saddend queenly again. % p wor @ Nation o in er d
 midst the nations on the earth we stand in shame alone They speak the tongue of charemagne in cot and Where Spain realms prince to mule Their olden tongue still speak the tribes the Danubes The German loves the rushing schlers pante ure of Petrarehs loving lays And who own that tongue of tongues that saints and Have bowed minds galng yoka And clothe the thoughts that make hearts with lips they touch like flakes of winter The saxon tongue Why we should hate this speech The Saxon of Saxon tell oft to our trusting Irish ears it syabled foul lies Ah that alien speechtoo long hollow pour forth lips rushing Kettle Tongue
  The should its voice be
 stin N When all its magic with golden gores thrift When, like aged bard it departed migh When heard in kingy halls where hrongd
 bright s' Fl When its glowing
 high s" I When oft tales of hapes love drew beautys eyer Grand tongue of heroes. how its tone the gale When Cuchulns Red Branch Knights rushed
 their . struggle their rghts When from thy lips they burst in fames Con of the Hundred
 Fights. | Or its gory pan Where royal Brian cheered his hosts battle with Oh who fire sluggish hearts like them dare and do7 When shall thy like again, ro-sould Borug . t< deIy swept sounding cbords
 I" When trembling strings to hymn the Fsnian thy yre gallant ossars fame Alike twoud tell of ladyelove and chief of princey line Fair Aeen now the poets song. and the Geradne. muscs sef-that barded tongue till iron began Then sweld its swanike strains and died with thee oCarn! wide world though
 | thy mnstrelsy sousoohns Kec Tongue Tongue hall Where Rank holds or Beauty reisns Its liquid accents M the of Pride Power. within the owy home-he outlawd tongue-the poor despse it not. hut still the mountain heath. or in the moonlit vale. shepherd the breathes h
  sogearh its might shades of vice of light he hus turks amid the simple forgotten ancient that prized Which to make our isle its home from lands meath orient
 skies. hirh saw the ourou- plarshne< fin graceful grandeur rsr