To  my  thinkin'  now  'tis  quarely

How,  like  childre,  all  our  hearts  were  young  an'

gay;

An'  the  sun  was  always  shinin',
And  you  heard  no  vain  repinin'

And  you  never  thought  the  skies  were  dour  and
gray,

Och,  me  poor  old  heart  is  weary,
Of  the  city  streets  so  dreary,

And  the  toilin'  and  the  moilin'  all  the  day ;
So,  please  God  and  Holy  Mary,
I'll  go  back  to  Tipperary,

Where  the  neighbors  still  remember  how  to  pray.
32


GIFTS  FOR  THE  CHRIST  CHILD

TJIS  palace  was  a  stable  bare

*  •'•That  housed  the  patient  ox;

But  when  the  shepherds  found  Him  there

(Plain  men  who  kept  their  flocks),

Because  they  heard  the  angels  sing,

They  did  not  doubt  that  He  was  King.
We  too  have  heard  the  angels  sing,

Adown  the  storied  years;

Then  let  us  our  rich  treasures  bring —

The  precious  myrrh  of  tears,

The  frankincense  of  fervent  love,

The  gold  of  faith  in  things  above.
33


THE  DEAD  CHIEF

(John  Redmond,  Irish  Parliamentary   Leader,   died
March  6th,  1918}

EAD  in  the  troubled  hour  before  the  Dawn !
h,  Ireland  of  the  Sorrows,  here  is  grief
That  wins  the  tribute  of  our  bitter  tears,

Dead  in  the  ranks  with  just  one  hill  to  climb!
Yet,  Land  of  Hope  deferred,  no  murmur  breaks
From  lips  that  oft  have  tasted  of  despair.
Dead ;  but  the  end  was  worthy  of  his  life,
For,  Mother  of  valiant  sons,  he  who  gave
His  all  to  you,  gave  also  this  his  death.
So  by  the  Tiber's  banks  died  The  O'Neill,
Victor  of  many  fields  where  Saxon  blood
Paid  tribute  to  the  prowess  of  Tyrowen.
