VIII.

And when the last was landed,

And homeward faint and cold

We turned, how, eager-handed,

(Guy leading as of old),

High on their shoulders proudly

They set me, cheering loudly,

And bore me on, declaring

The triumph of my daring;—

And how my love I told

That eve amid the gloaming

To Rose as we were roaming

Where Aughrim stream was foaming,

And how she smiled and sighed,

And,'mid the sunset's splendour,

Laying her white hand slender

In mine in love's surrender,

My prayer no more denied.

——G. F. Savage-Armstrong.

[Original]

The Sailor Girl

[Original]

When the Wild Geese were flying to Flanders

away,

I clung to my Desmond beseeching him stay,

But the stern trumpet sounded the summons to

sea,

And afar the ship bore him, Mabouchal machree.*

And first he sent letters, and then he sent none,

And three times into prison I dreamt he was

thrown;

So I shore my long tresses, and stain'd my face

brown,

And went for a sailor from Limerick Town.

* My heart's own boy.

Oh! the ropes cut my fingers, but steadfast I

strove,

Till I reached the Low Country in search of my

love.

There I heard how at Namur his heart was so

high,

That they carried him captive, refusing to fly.

With that to King William himself I was

brought,

And his mercy for Desmond with tears I be-

sought.

He considered my story, then smiling, says he,

"The young Irish rebel for your sake is free.

"Bring the varlet before us. Now, Desmond

O'Hea,

Myself has decided your sentence to-day.

You must marry your sailor with bell, book, and

ring,

And here is her dowry," cried William the King!

——A. P. Graves.

[Original]