The Irish standard. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn. ;) 1886-1920, 1913-07-19

tunities of doing. the same, but who
only put the Irish in Jail. DAILY did
not go past his own door to get his
Irish. and how they breathe. and blar-
ney and brogue in his lines!
But greater thing still this man
has done. He has put his own life
into song. He does not go foragins
at all now: he is In his own home. he
is In his own Heart. in its most Sc
cret, occult abode. knocking at the in
nermost chamber whose keys
''Are at the cincture hung of Cod"
What is that thou holdest in thy
hand?" asked God of Moses.
"a rod.''
And 10! the rod led the Hebrews
back from captivity. from bondage to
blessedness.
what hast thou at hand, Tom Da-
ly?"
Lord, Thou rknowest: my dearest
wife, my family Of seven. and behold!
one or them 1S+a cripple"
"sit down and write write Me of
Brenda, the song of the girl who Is
cripple" 38
And Thomas Augustine DAILY sat
down and wrote the song of Brenda,
and it is the finSst poem given to the
world since Francis Thompson wrote
1.-THE Hound of Heaven" 1t is called
"The Thrush" and 1t tells of the birth
of Brenda, an ode or lyric-epic Of
childbirth and soulbirth unique in the
English language, or any other. SO far
as this writer knows. Those who had
seen other glimpses Of Daly's own life,
through Songs Of Wedlock," were not
unaware of the power of passion and
quite prepared for this. Given his
Guardian Angel must have been pleas
urably shocked.) Reader, will you
have some Of It? This poem is not
yet SO accesl BILE as Mr.. Dalys other
work. so cut into it with the less re-
morse. Have the prelude:
Sing clear. o throstle. ..
Thou golden- tongued apostle
And little prown- -frocked brother
off, the ,eeyed ss,sisH! ...:3
Sing courage to tie mother.
Sing strength into the man,
For they, who in another May
Trod Hopes scant wine from grapes
of pain, ....
Have tasted in thy song today
The bitter sweet red lees again.
To them in whose sad May time
thou
sang'st comfort from thy maple
| bough,
To tinge the prcsagel dole with
sweet,
| oh, prophet then, be prophet now
And paraclete.
1t is a true overture: all the ele-
ments of the coming poem are there
Even on the hard ground of logic 1t is
! a success: it is a perfect exordiunl
! And what is the burden of the song,
what is the message? Comes the
dawn, one May day, hnding the
Thrush's song. and girding the maple
wood with 'quick glory" while watch
and listen, enchanted, two welded low
ers; and the won1ans hour is come
Priest of the ,lawning life, no less
than of the breaking day, this strange
Levana sings on
And they, thirst for comfort, slipped
But drank not yet its deeper homily.
Not yet, but when parturient pangs
| grew strong,
And from it's cell the young soul
struggled free
A new Joy trailing grief,
A little crumpled leaf,
Blighted before it burgeoned from the
Thou vert, as tabled robin to the
rood,
A minister of charity to them;
And from the shadows of sad par
enthood
They heard and understood
Makes God one soul lure for snar-
ing three?
All! surely; SO this nursing Of the
nest
This teen touched Joy, ere birth an
ONT of thee, ...
Yet bears thy chrismal music in her
breast
Five Mays have come and sped
| Above her sunny head,
And still the happy song abidcs in
her.
i For. though on manned limbs the
body creeps, ...
1t doth spirit house whose pinions