“But that is not all I’ll do for you,” says the King; “I’ll give you my daughter, too, in marriage,” says he. Now, you see, that was nothing more than what he promised the waiver in his first promise; for by all accounts the King’s daughter was the greatest dhraggin ever was seen, and had the divil’s own tongue, and a beard a yard long, which she purtended was put an her, by way of a penance, by Father Mulcahy, her confissor; but it was well known it was in the family for ages, and no wondher it was so long by rayson of that same.
Samuel Lover.
Mor of Cloyne, a Munster Princess, is singing at the door of a Fairy Rath to her sister, a captive within it, the magic tune by which she once escaped from a like captivity.
ittle Sister, whom the Fay
Hides away within his doon,
Deep below yon seeding fern,
Oh, list and learn my magic tune.
Long ago, when snared like thee
By the Shee, my harp and I
O’er them wove the slumber spell,
Warbling well its lullaby.
Till with dreamy smiles they sank,
Rank on rank, before the strain;
And I rose from out the rath,
And found my path to earth again.
Little Sister, to my woe
Hid below among the Shee,
List and learn the magic tune,
That it full soon may succour thee.
Alfred Perceval Graves.