England says, 'Where's Ireland's wrongs? They're all

in the long ago;

We're thratin' Ireland handsome enough.' An' all the while, ye know,

Englishmen wid a laff an' a sneer, or a pat on the back

that's worse,

Talks o' the Paddies they've got to manage, an' turns their good to a curse.

Ireland's wrongs! Well, Mary-no, I am not goin' to

jaw;

I'm sore all over, too sore to scold. It's a long while since I saw

Ye lookt down on me becos o' my blood; I thought I could make it right,

But I couldn't-it wasn't anny use; so I say good-bye to-night.

It was only yester-eve, my dear, ye thrated me just like

this,

An' I lay awake all night, an' I made up my mind that betther it is,

Ay, maid an' bachelor's betther we part, nor go through a maybe long life,

A wife that despises her husband, a husband despis'd by his wife !

I've spoke about it manny a time; ye know I have, my

dear;

I wouldn't take y' up short like this, I wouldn't coome to ye here,

Afther the banns was call'd an' all, if I hadn't ha' spoke

afore :

I know its dhreadful breakin' the plight, but it's dhread

ful, ten times more

To go through wedlife wid broken peace. They'll know it's all my fau't;

They'll never wrong ye, Mary dear, wid the shadda iv a

thought.

Forgive me touchin' at such a thing, but I know what things the' say

They'll never dare to say 'um o' you, that's all; ye can thrust me? Eh?"

Then I turn'd away an' left her there, who never had said a word,

An' I listen'd, but grasshopper's chirrup and cry o' corncrake only I heard.

I gother'd up my horruble grief an' sthrode away from the

An' left the girl, who had been my girl, wid a hush an' fear in her face.

An' I wisht I might be a woman for wonst, ay, so from my heart did I ;

For a woman might ease her heart wid tears, but a man have no call to cry.

Crake! crake! crake! she called, that bird, an' the grass

hopper chirrupt so sthrong,

An' the jew was fallin' heavy an' thick, as, alone, I walkt

along ;

1

The air was dhrencht wid the sweets o'the flowers, for, all

the way as I went,

The roses, an' woodbine, an' manny more, was givin' out such a scent.

An' afther a while I stopt my walk, an' down, wid weary limb

An' wearier heart, I sat on a stone, an' life lookt sthrange an' grim:

The flower breath seem'd to choke me a'most, an' even the feel o' the jew

Was like a fever an' not a cool, an' the moon came out

an' grew,

Sailin' along in the big blue sky, she grew to an awful

size;

An' all the stars seem'd starin' down on me wid their

pitiless eyes:

Eyes o' fire, an' eyes o' fire, an' eyes o' fire they were, Till I hid my face-an' when I lookt up, her eyes was shinin' there.

She puts her two arms round my neck, and says, “My love, forgive."

An' I looks sthraight into her face to see if my hope, just born, might live;

"Then, are we equals in God's sight?" "No, love," says she, "becos

Ye're betther nor me, for ye wouldn't give up yer man

hood for me that was

Silly an' stupud enough" but here I stopt her words wid a kiss

"Are we equals now in blood an' birth?" an' Mary answer'd" Yes."

An' I rose to my feet, an' she flung herself on my breast in sobs an' tears :

I wouldn't ha' made her cry like that for the joy iv a thousand years:

But thin for the right it's a different thing.-She cried that night, I say ;

But niver a tear since thin for me, an' we're marrud five year to-day.

THAT BOY.

THANK YOU, Willie, my child, this is very cosy and

sweet;

Son and daughter in one, sit down here at my feet.

What a great fellow you're growing! and ever, still as

you grow,

You are liker another Willie, my darling of long ago.

I like to talk to you of him, I know that you understand;

Yes, dear, draw closer to me,-so-closer—and hold my

hand;

That other Willie of mine, who past from my sight for a

space,

With the dew of youth on his locks, and the light of God on his face.

Strong, and joyous, and true; 'twould not have been easy to find

more thoroughly healthy, alike in body and mind;

H