Omaha daily bee., 1919-03-17
ireland IN Song and Story
Cyril Arthur Player in Detroit News.
ireland is the last eternal home of the fairi,

D
! lilac tinted centuries of aching history down
\ to the hungry years of the present 1t is a story
I blended with the lore of whimsical superSti-
/ ton and a grave, sweet beauty. In humor, in
/ passion, in gloom, IN tragedyAit scents the world
/ with the perfume OF its genius, this ireland.
I Where imagination ceases and dull circum-
stance begins, no man can say; is it necessary
| even to separate the two at all? Is it rot true
/ perhaps, that this ancient cradle Of culture and
nursing mother OF inspiration is the living para
| dox where fact and fancy meet?
Industry and art are close akin. Wherever
women buy pretty things, they seek the Irish
! products of hand knitting, hand embroidery and
lace making. These industries, truly arts stretch
back into really distant daysz-days when Ireland
seemed as if she would be the perpetual center
| of all such arts.
Today Irish linen is a standard the world
| over; the extreme moisture in the atmosphere
gives to Irish linen that delicate whiteness which
is unobtainabe in any other country,
The Irish from time mmemorial have
been boatbuilders, although the west coast
mackerel fishermen, or the hake coast to the
south, or the haddock fisheries on the southeast
must be visited to understand the real ingenuity
OF the Irish native boat builder.
In a larger way Belfast represents the high
development of the shipbuilding industry where
the principal yard, before the war, employed
ten thousand men, and was turning out larger
annual tonnage than any other yard in the world
| The whole of the White Star feet was built
there
The evidences Of early and medaevel culture
in Ireland are a multitude of beautiful things,
not only classics of literature but likewise won
ders of creative art. Thus at Cong Abbey, where
sleep many of Ireland's ancient dead, and among
them Rory O'Connor, the last king, there is an
exquisite cross with golden traceries and deli
cate beauty of silver and copper and enamel and
bronze, proof of the civilization built up with
in ireland long before the Normans ever crossed
IN bRF mix he
piled,
Throughout the Older periods of Irish ltera-
AZURE nearly all the greatest works are anony-
nous. In the modern Irish period it is possible
to begin the record OF lreland's great with such
names as Duald MacFirbis, the genealogist;
Godfrey Heating, the poet, who also wrote the
standard classic, History of Ireland;" Teig
MacDire and Lughaldh OClery, Brian Mac
Giolla Meidhre, author of the remarkable mid
night Court" and Anthony Raftery, the blind
poet OF killeadan, to mention only few OF the
earlier Gaelic writers of the modern period.
But side by side with the dwindling Gaelic
group new Irish literature in English made its
appearance at the close Of the Eighteenth CEN
fury. This era opened with songs and ballads
songs of the sorrows of Ireland generally
breathing passionate patriotism, Others were
idylls OF sentiment and peasant love melodies
cornwall and humorous.
"The Wearin' of the Green" was one of the
first street ballads, and since has become ma
tonal anthem THE Cruiskeen Lawn" and
Irish Molly o. are other early examples
Thomas Moore came along with his poems,
many of them fine, and in the same period came
Gerald Griffin and his Eileen Aroon"
One of the notable Irish writers of the first
half of the Nineteenth century was Father
Prout" (the Rev. Francis Sylvester Mahoney)
who wrote THE Bells of Shandon"- that sound
so grand on the pleasant waters of the River
Lee" Charles Levers novels, Harry Lore
quer" and Charles O'Malley," are classics now,
and Samuel Lover contributed "Rory O'Moore"
and Handy Andy"
Among the British national heroes of Irish
birth may be recalled the Duke of Wellington,
Earl Roberts, Earl Kitchener, Viscount French,
Viscount Garnet Wolseley, General Cough and
General MacMahon. OF course, the Irish have
a long fighting history, and their own particular
list of heroes, and mighty list it is
Then another part of the hall of fame would
include these; Daniel O'Connell, Charles
Stewart Parnell, John Mitchell Gather of John
Purroy Mitchell, Thomas Francis Meagher,
Robert Emmett John Blake Dillon, Justin Nc
Carthy, stout old John Redmond and, when their
time comes, 'Tay Pay" O'Connor and bitter
tongued Tim Healy.
And still there are scores left out even such
names as Seumas MacManus, Shane O'Neill,
Edward Fitzgerald translator of "Omar'), Ed
mund Burke, Henry Gratten-and so the names
daughters of the land Of all genius.
I There is something in the soil of Ireland, in
its lakes and woods, its rocks and hills that
carries long, long memory. So it is that many
of its natural beauties have been chronicled in
legend or poem, and the world is familiar by
picture with spots unseen.
So the world forms idealized pictures of
Killarney, of the great Shannon, of Tara, of the
Rock of Cashe1 of Galway of the Races, of Tip
perary, Of Blarney Castle, Of Drogheda, Kerry,
killaloe, Derry ard the many sweet remembered
spots enshrined in the songs of devoted Irish
hearts
And there is now tragic memory for Old
Head of Kinsale with its grim ghost-ridden
cliffs ana the ocean graveyard of the Lustania
moaning ceaselessly at its black feet; forever
monument to the women and children who
persisted cruelty in war which it was not the,ys
to, wage.
There is Limerick, the City of the Broken
Treaty Associated with its final, surrender is
one of the saddening episodes in Irish history,
when the Irish soldiers. given the choice of
serving under either of two flags, French or
English, sailed from the Shannon, leaving their
crying women behind them on the shores, sol
diers of fortune henceforth and a race of exiles.
Since that day in 1921, practically the Irish
have been eDIgrants In l84l the population
numbered 100000, and the decrease has been
steady. ever since, until now it is little more
than 100000.
These exiles have Joined their songs to those
OF the poets who remained at home. Usually
there is note of pathos and longingi sob of
regret rejecting at once the unprosperous, baffl-
ed condition of the country itself and the cling
ing affection it inspires in all its children
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