Book_^BjAll__ £iQEXRICHT DEPOSIT. SONGS OF SUNRISE iSooks of Poems BY DENIS A. McCarthy A ROUND OF RIMES VOICES FROM ERIN HEART SONGS AND HOME SONGS SONGS OF SUNRISE $1.00 net each SONGS OF SUNRISE BY DENIS A. McCarthy N 6SI-Fi£r£k T| ^VV1YAD-Q3S BOSTON LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY 1918 ^-^v >v Copyright, igi8t By Little, Brown, and Company. All rights reserved Published, April, 1918 Set up and clectrotyped by J. S. Gushing Co., Norwood, Mass., U.S.A. Prcsswork by S. J. Parkhill & Co., Boston, Mass., U.S.A. M&V -7 I9i8 ©GIA494934 TO ALL WHO ARE LOOKING TOWARD THE LIGHT ACKNOWLEDGMENT Acknowledgment is hereby made of the courtesy of the Independent, Rosary Magazine, Ave Maria, Chris- tian Endeavor World, Life, Youth's Companion, and New York Sun, for permission to use in this volume poems originally contributed to those publications. CONTENTS PAGE Songs or Sunrise ^ The Freedom-Lovers 2 When the People Wake 3 Time and the People 5 Mothers of Sorrows . 7 A Dream of Christmas Bells 9 Bunker Hill, i 775-191 7 ^^ Land of Our Hearts ^9 A Singer of Beauty 20 The Halls of the Heart 22 Forward, March! 23 High TroE 25 A Mood of Remembrance 27 The Minuet . '■. ^9 To One Who Died in Winter 3° Dreaming of Summer 32 Am I Forgetful? 34 The Testimony of Spring 35 The Sword of Hugh O'Neill 36 The Irish 39 A Song Out of Sorrow 42 The Christmas Candle 43 With a Gift 45 The Winter Weather 46 Tower of Ivory ^8 Child Magic 49 [ixl CONTENTS PAGE Leprechauns and Cluricauns . ' . . . .51 Fairy Friends 53 Fairy Playmates 55 At Christmas 57 An Ancient Irish Well 58 A Little While 60 Mother Love 61 October's Queen 62 The Wise Men 64 Head and Heart 65 Gaelic Farewell to Sorrow 67 St. Patrick and King Darry 69 Paddy and the Parson 72 A Continued Story 75 Summer Dreams 76 Bird and Bard 78 Shakespeare's Limitations and Ours . . .79 Not "Can't" BUT **WiLi" 81 Average Americans 83 The Tipperary-man 85 The Troubadour 87 The Last Fight 89 Little Norry Sullivan 90 Love's Joy and Grief 93 The Wearing of the Blue 94 Love and War 96 To be Kind 97 If it Doesn't Ring True 99 [^] SONGS OF SUNRISE SONGS OF SUNRISE Songs of Sunrise OONGS of sunrise, songs of cheer, ^ Songs for souls in sorrow groping, Songs to free the heart of fear. Songs to help us keep on hoping. Songs of life and songs of love. Songs of happier days hereafter. Gladsome songs to melt and move Minds of gloom to light and laughter. Songs of trust and songs of faith, Songs of strength and self-reHance, Songs of those who looked on death With serene, sublime defiance. Darkness o'er the world is spread, But the stars will one by one rise, And the east will soon be red — Let us sing the songs of sunrise ! [i] SONGS OF SUNRISE The Freedom-Lovers T^OW, may God shield the men who wield ■^^ A sword in freedom's cause, And make them strong to smite the wrong That lives in tyrant laws. The world may hiss their names, and kiss The mailed hand of might, But, scorn or scathe, we keep our faith In those who love the right ! Now, may God bless the men who press With words that rouse and ring, The people's claims, the people's aims 'Gainst kaiser, lord, and king. Whate'er their race, whate'er their place, Whate'er their creed or clan, God bless and shield in town and field The men who fight for man ! [2] SONGS OF SUNRISE When the People Wake r\ EMPERORS, kings and kaisers! O nobles and knights and peers ! Is this the end of your leading, This jumble of blood and tears? We gave you the reins to guide us, We trusted your power to plan — Is this the test of your ruling, This murder of man by man? We dreamed of a world grown wiser, We thought that the day was here When peace from the earth would banish The ghost of an ancient fear ; But vain was the faith we leaned on, And false was the hope we had, — Lo, here is the same old slaughter, And here is the world gone mad I O emperors, kings and kaisers, Your hour is approaching fast ! The web of your fate is woven, The die of your doom is cast. Too long at the game of glory [3] SONGS OF SUNRISE As pawns you have used our sons, Too long you have mocked and made them The food of your hungry guns. There's blood on your smooth white faces, There's blood on your soft white hands, There's blood-stained gold in your coffers. The price of our lives and lands. We're tired of your crimes and blunders, We're tired of your rule and rod. And the wrath of a wakened people Can smite like the wrath of God ! [4l SONGS OF SUNRISE Time and the People (Written on viewing a ruined feudal castle.) STRONGHOLD of a bygone day, Fortress of a fallen pride, Once a people owned thy sway Over all the countryside. Once the robbed and ruined kern Saw thee lift thy head abhorr'd, Cursing in his heart the stern Spirit of thy stranger-lord. Many a sweating peasant piled Stone on stone to raise thy walls ; Many a mother saw her child Chained among thy hapless thralls ; Many a village maiden wept, Vainly, as they dragged her in To thy courts wherein were kept Shameless festivals of sin. But the years have onward rolled — Now thy roof's the arching sky ; No one hates thee as of old. No one shudders passing by. [5] SONGS OF SUNRISE Mighty walls that held at bay Vengeful clansmen in thy prime, Breached and broken are to-day Stricken by the hand of time. And as thou art, so is too That old tyranny whose power O'er the many, for the few. Raised thy threatening keep and tower. Other hands the tribute take, Other powers succeed to thee, These the people too must break Ere they stand entirely free ! [6] SONGS OF SUNRISE Mothers of Sorrows 'T' RAMPING, tramping, tramping, tramping, Down the street the soldiers come, Marching onward to the bugle, Marching onward to the drum. Down they come, and there among them Is a little lad I know — Or at least he once was Httle, But alas, he had to grow ; Had to grow from youth to manhood. Fine and handsome, face and limb, But the country needed soldiers, Just the very like of him. So, he's marching with the others That they're sending to the front. That they're sending off to Flanders There to bear the battle's brunt. And I'm frantic at his going. And I don't know what to do — But, O Blessed Virgin Mother, I'll be trusting him to you ! Tramping, tramping, tramping, tramping, Though I lived a thousand years, [7] SONGS OF SUNRISE I could never shut those footsteps \ From my tired and tortured ears. And whene'er I hear the bugle, Let it ne'er so gaily play, 'Twill be mingled in my mem'ry With my sorrow of to-day. For my sorrow is the keenest That the world has ever known ; 'Tis the sorrow of all mothers Who are widowed and alone. But, O Mother of all mothers, Mary, Queen of earth and heaven, You whose heart for love of Jesus Felt the wound of sorrows seven — See, I'm turning in my sorrow Unto one who sorrows knew. And my Httle boy, O Mother, I'll be trusting him to you ! [8] SONGS OF SUNRISE A Dream of Christmas Bells *' T> ELLS of Christmas, bells of Christmas/' -*-' Dreaming, thus I made my cry- Where a belfry raised its turrets Dark and mute against the sky. "Is not this," I said, "the season Deeply dear to hearts of men, When the world is wont to welcome Jesus to His own again ? "Then, O bells, O bells of Christmas, Wherefore silent ? Why withhold All the merry Christmas clamor That you made for us of old ? Swing and ring, and rouse the people, Maid and matron, man and boy ; For 'twill never seem like Christmas If they miss your notes of joy." But methought the bells made answer, "Nay; no more our notes may ring Till the world has grown more worthy Of the blessed news we bring, I9] SONGS OF SUNRISE Till the hearts of men more truly Own the sway of Him who came That the world might be united For His sake and in His name." And methought the bells made answer "Look abroad upon the world; See the carillons of Europe From their holy places hurled. Through the ages fell their message From their belfries dark and high ; Now in common wreck and ruin Bell and belfry shattered lie. " Mourn we then, we bells, in silence For our silent sister chimes ; And we'll sound no Christmas anthem Till in better, happier times Every tribe and every nation Will from bloodshed seek release In the ranks of truth and justice Underneath the flag of peace. "Till that day no more at Christmas In our belfries shall we swing ; Nevermore to all the people Joyful tidings shall we bring ; [lo] SONGS OF SUNRISE But in mute appeal protesting We shall stand against the wrong, ^Gainst the bitterness and blood-lust That have stained the world so long." Then I woke in desolation, But upon my waking ear Fell the sound of church bells chiming Happy chimes to childhood dear. And I knew I had been dreaming, — But I often thought that day Of the ruined shrines of Europe And of belfries far away. [ii] SONGS OF SUNRISE Bunker Hill, 1775-1917 "LJERE on this sod, Now consecrate for aye to Freedom's God, One glorious day An earthen barrier balked a tyrant's way ; Here on this ground The soldiers of a despot fought, and found That victory's cost Might mean a nation born, an empire lost ! Up from their boats, The June sun blazing on their scarlet coats. The king's men come With trilling trumpet and with roUing drum. Little they fear Their farmer foemen on the hilltop here. In lands afar, From foes well versed in the art of war, They've wrested oft The victor's palm. Upon their flags aloft Is many a name Of foreign fields that echo to their fame ; [12] SONGS OF SUNRISE So what care they For rebel colonists in rude array? With hoarse commands Their captains marshal them in glittering bands ; Their sabres clash As Hghtly from the shining sheath they flash ; The sunbeams glance On glinting bay'net and on plumes that dance. With stately tread On, on, they come in ranks of royal red, Adept, adorned For battle's brunt, as men whose souls had scorned A hint, a breath, A thought of danger, or a fear of death. But what of those, Their poor, derided patriot-farmer foes ? Why, why so still The homespun ranks intrenched upon the hill ? Has Britain's power O'erawed and chilled them in this fateful hour ? And bade them pause Ere yet they strike a blow for Freedom's cause? Not so, not so — No terrors hath for them this gaudy show ! [13] SONGS OF SUNRISE They've flung aside All fear today of England's martial pride. No tremors run Through any patriot hand that holds a gun, But steady, sure, With patient courage potent to endure, They wait until That long, imposing line has dimbed the hill ; Until they note The gold insignia on each captain's coat — Nay, till they spy The very color of the foeman's eye. Then, then, they aim, Then, then, the breastwork belches fire and flame, Then, then, they show How swift and deadly is the freeman's blow ! Confused and mazed, The men disordered and the leaders dazed, The British stand While stricken comrades fall on every hand. They little deemed Such stout resistance waited them, or dreamed That from the share Could spring such men as those who faced them there. With curse and cry, [14] SONGS OF SUNRISE To urge them forward their commanders try ; "Alas! What shame, What blot upon the army's honored name, If we retire Defeated by the rebel-rustics' fire !" Thus, thus they plead. Thus the remaining captains try to lead. But all in vain ; They cannot rally, in that leaden rain. In front and flank A panic seizes them, till rank on rank Goes reeling back — And dire disaster ends the proud attack ! But see — they form Again, the stubborn battlement to storm ; Again they come With trilUng trumpet and with rolling drum ; Albeit their tread Is now o'er many a gallant comrade dead. But what avails Their desperate courage? — for again it fails. Yes, once again The patriots reserve their fire, and then With deadly aim Drive back the British faster than they came! [is] SONGS OF SUNRISE Now cheers ring out From those within that bravely held redoubt, Who joy to see The boasted British regulars turn and flee Before the guns Of farmer-freemen and their stalwart sons ! But even now While victory's flush illumines every brow, A bitter word Along the line of patriots is heard : ''There's not a grain Of powder left to blow them back again Should they once more Attempt what they have failed in twice before ! '' E'en as they say, The British drums again begin to play. And from the throat Of brazen bugles blows the rallying note ; And once again, Though beaten backward twice, King George's men, Determined still, Begin the third attack upon the hill ! Now, who shall save The patriot band — so few, but oh, so brave ! Their powder gone, [i6] SONGS OF SUNRISE Will they still dare the British coming on? No braver stand Than theirs was made by troops in any land ; So let them go Unbeaten still before the advancing foe. '' Retreat, retreat!" The order rings — but still they stay to meet The scarlet swarm That now the works from every quarter storm ; And hand to hand, With naked bay'net, musket-butt and brand, The foe they face, Reluctantly retiring pace by pace. Not theirs to yield — But fighting, fighting still, they leave the field ! Here on this hill The men who dared to die are honored still. This storied mound Now sweet with verdure, calm and column-crowned, Beholds each day The patriot-pilgrim from the far-away, Who comes to view The place where Prescott and his comrades true, In desperate fight Thrust back a tyrant's soldiers in their might. [17] SONGS OF SUNRISE ; Here old and young, Americans of every race and tongue, Come day by day, The tribute of their reverence to pay To those who stood For right, for justice, and for nationhood ! So may it be Forever. We're unworthy to be free The day we let Our sordid souls the glorious past forget ; The day our eyes In wealth and pleasure see the highest prize Yea, traitors we Unto our heritage of liberty. The day we know No stir of generous feeling, and no glow At names that thrill All patriot hearts today at Bunker Hill ! [i8] SONGS OF SUNRISE Land of Our Hearts^ T AND of our hearts, while thy flag floats before us, -■— ' Symbol of Liberty on land or on sea, Proudly we'll sing and in one mighty chorus Tell all our love, O Columbia, to thee ! Land of our hearts, O Columbia, we hail thee, Fair land of freedom, 'tis to thee we'll be true ; Dangers may come, but we never will fail thee. Still we'll be loyal to the red, white and blue. 1 Written for the military march-song "The Columbian", music by H. Theo. Gilday. [19] SONGS OF SUNRISE A Singer of Beauty npHE poets of power and of passion Are leaders and lords in the van ; They rouse us to forge and to fashion, They help us to plot and to plan ; Oh, they are the strong ones, the smiters. The prophets and seers of wrath, Who summon the swords of the fighters To clear for our progress a path. But what shall be said of the singer Whose song has no purpose or plan ? The bard who is only a bringer Of joy to the spirit of man ? Shall he be despised and neglected As useless or vicious or vain ? Shall he be rebuked or rejected And silenced with scorn and disdain ? Ah no — let him sing ! Let him fling us His song without purpose or art ; The lark into deeds does not sting us, And yet is he dear to the heart. f20l SONGS OF SUNRISE All praise to the poets of duty Who rouse us to wrestle with wrong, But here's to the singer of beauty And here's to the lilt of his song ! [21 SONGS OF SUNRISE The Halls of the Heart 'T^HE sweet-scented meadow, the blue- tinted sky, They do not desert us when summer goes by, For all through the winter, though summer depart, Their pictures are hung in the halls of the heart. The darker the day, and the sadder the mood, The brighter the mem'ries of mountain and wood. And worried and wearied in mill or in mart. We turn with relief to the halls of the heart. The sweet loving smile and the bright beaming eye. They stay with us still though our darlings may die, For love and remembrance with magical art Still picture them forth in the halls of the heart. Then face we the future howe'er it may frown, Though sorrows like snows of the winter come down. The joys of the past of our lives are a part. We keep them for aye in the halls of the heart ! I"] SONGS OF SUNRISE Forward, March! WHEN luck is bad and the world seems sad, And your step's unsteady and slow ; When your shoulders droop with a weary stoop, As if bowed with a weight of woe ; When fame seems farther than ever away, And fortune is only a jilt, Then think of a song as you v;alk along And march to a Uvely lilt. With a "hep, hep," as you onward step, A magical change you'll find, Your blood will flow and your cheek will glow And your trouble will leave your mind. For courage will spring in your heart again And cowardice leave you soon, If you forward step with a ''hep, hep," To the time of a marching tune ! When grief and gloom in your heart have room, And you neither can toil nor talk. Then, forth, away, in the night or day For the balm of a lonely walk. [23] SONGS OF SUNRISE The spirit that sits in your heart may be With many another alhed, But they won't stay long for the ring of a song And the swing of a marching stride. With a ''hep, hep," as you onward step, Oh, this is a sovereign cure For minds that mope in the dark and grope In the mist of a mood obscure ; The fiend of fear from your heart will fly And courage replace him soon. If you onward step with a "hep, hep," To the time of a marching tune ! [24 SONGS OF SUNRISE High Tide EVENINGS in autumn when the tide was high And made our little river seem a lake (For out of its green bounds 'twould softly break And broaden till it mirrored all the sky), What pleasant walks together, you and I, Beside the quiet wave were wont to take ! Wimt talk was ours, in which there was no sigh Save youth's impatience for the by-and-by ! Those eves in autumn ! Thirty years or more Have wrought their changes in the world since then, And you and I will ne'er on earth again So merge our souls in converse as of yore ; For you, long since, have passed unto that shore Where tend at last the devious ways of men ; And till my spirit also passes o'er It is on memories I needs must pore. So now, on autumn evenings when the tide Comes creeping in across the marshes low, Its silent waters crimsoned with the glow Of the last gleam of day's departing pride, — [25] SONGS OF SUNRISE I think of other days when, side by side, We walked, and watched it wide and wider grow And dreamed of fame hke this outspreading wide, Nor ever thought to have our dreams denied. [26] SONGS OF SUNRISE A Mood of Remembrance ^X/'HEN the winter's wildest weather Whitens all the world with snow, Then I dream of hills of heather Purple in the sunset's glow ; Then I dream of sylvan alleys Newly wet with summer rains, Silver streams in verdant valleys, Shady woods and leafy lanes. When the winter's grasp is tightest. When it binds its fetters fast, Then I dream of warmest, brightest, Sweetest scenes of summer past ; And one memory rises ever Of a bygone summer day, And a softly flowing river In old Ireland far away. On it flows, that river, singing Under arches dark and old, In its shining waters bringing Riches rarer far than gold. [27] SONGS OF SUNRISE Many a humble home it passes, Many a castle proud and strong, In its wave the woods it glasses, And the hill range lone and long. Thus, when winter's reign is o'er me In this land so strange and chill, Mem'ry's magic brings before me Many a heather-purpled hill ; And when wildest tempests rally Round their standard of the snows, I can see the sun-loved valley Where that Irish river flows. 28 SONGS OF SUNRISE The Minuet H OW sweetly and how neatly unto that olden air, The minuet she dances ! How bhthely and how lithely she trips it here and there, Retires and then advances ! How stately and sedately she curtseys and she bows, How queenly and serenely our homage she allows ; How nicely and precisely the bolder beaux she cows. And foils their ardent glances ! Oh, fair one, and oh, rare one, the minuet and you Are sweet as old romances. That fill men and that thrill men with dreams of youth anew, Of life and lofty chances ; Of glory when the gory blades of battle saw the sun. Of leisure and of pleasure when the stormy days were done. Of spacious Ufe and gracious with some lady like the one That now divinely dances ! 29 SONGS OF SUNRISE To One Who Died in Winter QINCE you are gone, how destitute the days Of all that erewhile made them sweetly fair ! How sad is life, how wearisome its ways ! — The golden fruit is fall'n, the trees are bare. And that fond hope that led us like a light No longer shines to lure our footsteps on ; For all our hearts are sunk in sorrow's night — Since you are gone ! Since you are gone, since o'er your grave the snow Is drifting as the days of winter pass — Our hearts that sang a little while ago Are emptied of their joyous songs, alas ! For slowly, like your own sad funeral train, The dreary days and nights go on and on, And bring us no forge tfulness of pain — Since you are gone ! But no ; not so — we must not think the pall Can hide your face forever from our eyes ; We too shall answer to the Father's call And, through His mercy, walk in Paradise, SONGS OF SUNRISE A little while in sadness and regret We'll bide the day eternal coming on, And feel God's blessing hover round us yet, Though you are gone. [31] SONGS OF SUNRISE Dreaming of Summer A LL the winther weary, I was wishin' it was over, "^ Longin' for the v/arm winds an' longin' for the sun, Longin' for the breakin' bud, the grasses an' the clover, Longin' for the brown sthreams that ripple as they run ! Far away from Erin where the winther's mild an' mellow — Very little frost to bite, an' snow that doesn't last, — All the winther weary, sure, a poor ould feeble fellow Dhreams of future summers an' of sum.m.ers that are past ! All the winther weary, I was wishin' it was ended — Ah, to see the long days that gladden all the land ! Ah, to see the colors by the hand of nature blended — Blue an' white an' em'rald, an' gold, on every hand! Far away from Erin where the spring's an early comer [32] SONGS OF SUNRISE (Even in the winther there you hear the robin's song), Sure, you can not wondher that I am dhreamin' of the summer, Here where winther is so cold, so dhreary, an' so long ! All the winther weary, in the night-time an' the daytime, Sittin' here an' sighin' I've been longin' for the spring, Longin' in the lightness an' the brightness of the Maytime Just to dhrag myself abroad to hear the robins sing! Far away from Erin where the winther's mild and mellow (Seldom there the cold makes the singin' rivers dumb). What's a man to do when he's a poor ould feeble fellow ? Only dhream of summers past an' summers yet to come ! 33 SONGS OF SUNRISE Am I Forgetful? AMI forgetful of the patient love •^ Wherewith one heart has followed me and blessed me — When I have known how false may friendship prove, When sorrow haunted me and pain distressed me ? Am I forgetful ? How could I forget The gentle soul yet strong who comfort gave ? Man's heart is like the wind in April — yet Love-loyalty will last me to the grave ! 34 SONGS OF SUNRISE The Testimony of Spring T ASK no greater miracle -■■ To prove a Godhead's kindly power Than this : The little buds that swell And break in living leaf and flower. I walk the fields and woods of Spring, ' And every tree becomes a proof That He who set the world a-swing Is busy still in man's behoof. Each tiny, timid blade of green That pushes upward from the sod, Proclaims to me the creed serene ''There is a God ! There is a God." 35 SONGS OF SUNRISE The Sword of Hugh O'NeilP "1X7HEN foreign hands had grasped the best ^ ^ Of Ireland's ancient share, And foreign heels upon her breast Had ground their imprint there, One voice for freedom bravely rang, One sword of native steel Like lightning from its scabbard sprang — The sword of Hugh O'Neill ! One sword of native steel Flashed forth for Ireland's weal. The flashing sword, the slashing sword, The sword of Hugh O'Neill ! Soon thronging 'round Tyr-Owen's chief Tyr-0 wen's clansmen came — Who held their lands in foreign fief Flung off the yoke in shame. 1 Hugh O'Neill, Earl of Tyrone and Baron of Dungannon, the chief champion of Irish nationality in the sixteenth century, after many years of struggle with the government of Eliza- beth, died an exile in Rome in 1608. His grave is in the church of San Pietro di Montorio. [36] SONGS OF SUNRISE And soon Tyr-Connail's prince displayed His father's fiery zeal, And bared his own bright brand to aid The sword of Hugh O'Neill. Flashed forth for Ireland's weal Red Hugh O'Donnell's steel, A brother brand to help the hand Of dauntless Hugh O'Neill ! O'More of Leix caught up the cry And flung his standard out. Would BrelTni's prince, O'Rourke, stand by, Nor heed that battle-shout? Nay, every clan had wrongs to right And every man could feel That Ireland's soul was in the fight Led on by Hugh O'Neill ! What man that could not feel, Though death his fate should seal. His stoutest blade must haste to aid The sword of Hugh O'Neill ! And so from every mountain dun The gallowglasses swarmed. And many a well-fought field they won. And many a town they stormed. [37] SONGS OF SUNRISE Till backward from the Yellow Ford They saw the foemen reel, And glory gleamed upon the sword And standard of O'Neill ! The Red Hand of O'Neill, His good broad sword of steel, In glory's ray were bright that day For Ireland and O'Neill ! But woe for him who bravely tried, Who nobly fought and toiled ! — The great O'Neill in exile died, His country sacked and spoiled. Yet pray she will that God may still Some future day reveal Another Hugh as staunchly true j As fearless Hugh O'Neill ! Old Ireland's wounds to heal God send her sons as leal, God give her men to wield again The sword of Hugh O'Neill ! 38 SONGS OF SUNRISE The Irish XXZHAT searching sound is that I hear Above the city's roar? Fling up the window wide, my boy, And let me listen more. What's that ? My soul ! I hear the roll Of drums that throb and thrill : The bugles' blare is on the air, The fifes are sharp and shrill ! Hurray ! Hurray ! 'Tis Patrick's Day. And all these fifes and drums Are out to lead the grand parade That round the corner comes ! The Irish — oh, the Irish ! — sure they're out in force to-day ! There must be twenty thousand men parading up Broadway ! And, oh, the green that decks the scene ! And oh, the bands that play ! And, oh, the dreams of hills and streams in Ireland far away ! [39] SONGS OF SUNRISE Oh, help me to the window, boy, Until these poor old eyes Once more may see the flags I love Uplifted to the skies ! Old Glory's there — 'tis you that's fair ! No flag on earth like you ! And by your side I see with pride Old Ireland's banner too ! Oh, blessed sight, each standard bright Goes on in sun and wind, While, as of yore, the Celtic corps Is marching close behind ! The Irish — oh, the Irish ! — sure they're out in force to-day ! Full twenty thousand, ay, and more, are marching up Broadway ! The flags they bear are flags they'll dare to follow to the fray — But, oh, the thought, that comes unsought, of Ire- land far away ! O modest maiden watching there With looks so sweet and shy. Say, can it be the dust that brings A tear into your eye ? [40] SONGS OF SUNRISE Or may it be that through the glee Of rhythmic drums that roll, Some minor strain awakes the pain Of exile in your soul? But never fear, although the tear Adown your face may creep, Your Irish eyes like Irish skies Can smile as well as weep ! The Irish — oh, the Irish! — sure they own the town to-day, With laughter on the lips of them, their grief they won't display ; Their wit is bright, their words are light, who else could be so gay ? But, oh, the tears for youthful years in Ireland far away I 41] SONGS OF SUNRISE A Song Out of Sorrow /^UT of my sorrow I'll make a song, ^^ Out of my grief a joy I'll fashion, Life at the longest is not o'er long, Why should I waste it in self-compassion ? Better, far better, to sing than sigh, 'Neath the galling yoke and the scourging thong, And so, uplifting my heart, I'll try Out of my sorrow to make a song. Out of my sorrow I'll make a song. E'en though trouble has mauled and maimed me, This my singing may make men strong Long, long after the grave has claimed me. This were something to leave behind. Something to balance the years gone wrong. Something to solace and serve my kind — Out of my sorrow a deathless song ! [42] SONGS OF SUNRISE The Christmas Candle T »IS Christmas Eve; and so to-night The Christmas candle let us Ught. For, those who kept the faith of old This custom quaint were wont to hold ; And who are we, aside to cast The Christian customs of the past? So let us gather, one and all, And light the Christmas taper tall ; And star-like as it shines afar, 'Twill mind us of that other Star That shone when first the Holy Child Looked up in Mary's face and smiled. Then let it burn, a symbol bright Of faith and love, this blessed night. And as we watch it, let us pray To Him new-born on Christmas Day, That we and ours may ever keep Within our hearts, secure and deep The faith our fathers hither brought, The faith for which our heroes fought, The faith that was our mothers' pride, [43] SONGS OF SUNRISE The faith for which our martyrs died. Yes, let us pray to hold unspoiled The heritage for which they toiled. And let us keep old customs dear, And let us gather, year by year, Around this light on Christmas Eve, And voice a fervent : "I believe." [44l SONGS OF SUNRISE With a Gift OF things too dear To be sung or spoken This gift I send you Is but a token, — A simple token, But with it goes The tenderest wishes My spirit knows. The tenderest wishes. The sweetest dreams, With these, my dearest. This token teems. May I interpret, As token true. Should you take this gift That you'll take me too? 45 SONGS OF SUNRISE The Winter Weather QING hey, the winter weather! sure to me 'tis ^ very dear, it is, How bright and blue the sky, and oh, the air how crisp and clear it is ! And even if a gloomy day be thrown in with the best of it, 'Twill only make us like the more the good of all the rest of it. Sing hey, the winter weather ; sing the tempest and the snow of it, The frozen ponds, the icy bonds, the combat and the glow of it ! The summer, were it always here, we'd weary of the trick of it ; 'Tis winter comes and keeps us from the fate of grow- ing sick of it. O, happy are the summer days, for dreaming and for pleasure made ; But winter is for working out the plans in summer leisure made, [46] SONGS OF SUNRISE The time for manly task and toil — so turn the hand and mind to it, Forgetting in your zeal there's any drudgery or grind to it. And winter is the time of home, the time when hearts reveal themselves. The time when at the fireside all in sweet accord may feel themselves, The time of friendly glances when the folks all get together here — So hey, sing hey for winter, that's the very best of weather here ! 47 SONGS OF SUNRISE Tower of Ivory A GAINST the sullen seas, the dark'ning skies, •^^ I see the lighthouse, fair as ivory, rise ; A symbol, in a waste and wintry world. Of that bright haven where, with sea-wings furled, Its toilsome days of danger overpast, The weary bark may safely lie at last. So, too, amid a world of sin and storm, I see, O Mother ! thy benignant form ; And pray that all who sail life's troubled sea May ever find, as I have found, in thee A Tower of Ivory, a lamp to light The dark horizon of the infinite. [48] SONGS OF SUNRISE Child Magic JOHNNY JONES his hoop is rolling Up and down the walk ; Johnny Jones his hoop is rolling " — This is grown-up talk. Johnny no such thing is doing (Surely he knows best) ; Johnny is a knight pursuing Some romantic quest. Johnny's hoop 's a charger prancing Where the fray is thick, Johnny's sword is brightly glancing (No, 'tis not a stick). Here and there behold him dashing, Riding down his foes. Through their armored cohorts crashing Gallantly he goes. Eoopy indeed ! Why, can't you see These he days of chivalry ? [49] SONGS OF SUNRISE "Look at Johnny peeking, peering From that poplar- tree ! " Not at all ; he's buccaneering Far away at sea. With his crew the yards he's manning Spite of swell or gale, They the wide horizon scanning For some Spanish sail. This may be a tree to others, But to them, avast ! Johnny and his sea-dog brothers Know it for a mast. And the green fields round about them (Land to me and you) Is to them — and who may doubt them? Oceans broad and blue. Ah, how blind we grown-ups be Not to see what children see ! ISo] SONGS OF SUNRISE Leprechauns and Cluricauns /^VER where the Irish hedges ^^ Are with blossoms white as snow, Over where the limestone ledges Through the soft green grasses show - There the fairies may be seen In their jackets red and green, Leprechauns and cluricauns. And other ones, I ween. And, bedad, it is a wonder To behold the way they act. They're the lads that seldom blunder, Wise and wary, that's the fact. You may hold them with your eye ; Look away and off they fly ; Leprechauns and cluricauns, Bedad, but they are sly ! They have heaps of golden treasure Hid away within the ground, Where they spend their days in leisure, And where fairy joys abound ,* [si] SONGS OF SUNRISE" But to mortals not a guinea Will they give — no, not a penny. Leprechauns and cluricauns, Their gold is seldom found. Maybe of a morning early As you pass a lonely rath, You may see a little curly- Headed fairy in your path. He'll be working at a shoe, But he'll have his eye on you — Leprechauns and cluricauns. They know just what to do. Visions of a life of riches Surely will before you flash ; (You'll no longer dig the ditches. You'll be well supplied with cash.) And you'll seize the little man. And you'll hold him — if you can; Leprechauns and cluricauns, 'Tis they're the slipp'ry clan ! [52] SONGS OF SUNRISE Fairy Friends ' ■pAIRY fiddlers, lilting lightly, You may hear them if you will Close your ears and close them tightly To the sound of mart and mill ; If you'll only pause and listen Where the summer streamlets glisten, You may hear the fairy music In the laughing of the rill. Fairy dancers, dancing featly, You may see them if your eyes Are not blinded too completely By the shows that others prize. From the grosser pleasures glancing, Look and see the fairies dancing, Dancing neatly, dancing featly, 'Neath enchanted starry skies. Ah, our hearts are all too earthful. Or we might forever know Fairy dance and music mirthful, Fairy beauty, fairy glow. lS3] SONGS OF SUNRISE In our youth the vision thrilled us And with magic pleasure filled us, And away from all the sweetness, Ah, how sad it was to grow ! [54 SONGS OF SUNRISE Fairy Playmates FORTY little fairy men Marching down the hill, Marching in the moonlight, Stealthily and still ; Little spears a-glancing, Little swords a-shine — Ah, you Uttle fairy men, I wish that you were mine ! I should like to have you All for myself, I would make a place for you Here upon a shelf ; Or if you'd prefer to be From the house withdrawn. You could pitch your little tents Out upon the lawn. Fairy men are all alive Just like girls and boys ; They can run and they can jump, They are not like toys. [55I SONGS OF SUNRISE They can answer when you speak, They can hear and mind, They are not like other things That you have to wind ! Forty httle fairy men — When the house is still, I can see them marching, Marching down the hill. I have toys a-plenty Up-stairs and down, But I'd rather fairy men Than all the toys in town ! [56] SONGS OF SUNRISE At Christmas NOW at this season, dear, of Love Divine, I should be silent on this love of mine. Yet am I fain a few sweet words to say. Just for yourseH, this coming Christmas Day. For it is you alone who know my heart — Who know the secret of its inmost part. Therefore, O love, O dearest love of mine, Here is my song, a symbol and a sign, Telling my faithfuhiess through all those years, Telling my love o'ercoming hosts of fears, Telling my hope of dreams that may come true At some sweet Christmas time for me and you ! [57 SONGS OF SUNRISE An Ancient Irish Well \X7HEN the cruel sun is glaring on the city's walls and ways, And the stricken land is staring blankly upward in the blaze ; When the parching plants are drooping and the thirsty birds are still, And the faithful cattle, stooping, stagger on with weakened will ; When there's nothing sweet or cheery in the voices of the street. When the head and heart are weary of the struggle and the heat, Then my thoughts are backward going to a cool sequestered dell Where a Hsping stream is flowing from an ancient well! Then indeed my mind retraces many a mile of spreading foam, And I see in dreams the places once I used to know at home — [58] SONGS OF SUNRISE See again the sloping meadows and the cool dark woods afar, Rest again within the shadows where the whortle- berries are, Hear again the gentle crooning of the waters as they flow (Like a fairy minstrel tuning in the days of long ago), And I stoop my forehead blindly and my parching Hps that swell For a draught long, cool, and kindly, from that ancient Irish well. 59 SONGS OF SUNRISE A Little While npHE darkest hour the winter sends Can never quench or cloud the thought That summer days, hke smihng friends, Are hast'ning hither, favor-fraught ; That, howsoe'er the snow may drift On windy mountain, moor and fen, A little while, and flowers will lift Their faces to the light again. A little while, — a little while ! What comfort in the thought we find When life itself has ceased to smile, When all the world has proved unkind \ A little while of grief and gloom, A little while of sorrow's sting. And then — the fadeless flow'rs that bloom For us in some eternal spring ! [60] SONGS OF SUNRISE Mother Love /^H, fair are the treasures of nature, ^^^ And fair the treasures of art — By the sculptor beautiful things are wrought In the stone from the mountain's heart ; And beautiful are the paintings That hang on the rich man's wall, But the face of her babe to the mother Is fairer than them all ! Oh, the soldier he loveth glory. And the miser he loveth gold. And the fair green isles are clasped and loved By the waves of the ocean old ; The youth to the maiden giveth The love that is first and best. But the mother's heart goes out in love To the babe upon her breast. 6i SONGS OF SUNRISE October's Queen TXTHEN the grass was springing, Wlien the fields were gay, When the winds were singing All the happy day, — Then we gathered 'round thee, Mother dear, and crown'd thee With the brightest blossoms Of the meads of May. Now that winds are grieving Over summer dead, All the woodlands reaving Of their riches red, — Once again we're kneehng. To thy heart appeahng. Twining other garlands For thy holy head. Rosy crowns we wrought thee In thy month of flov/'rs, Rosy crowns we brought thee From the Maytime bow'rs. [62] SONGS OF SUNRISE But when roses fail us, Rosaries avail us ; Tis with these we crown thee In October hours. [63 SONGS OF SUNRISE The Wise Men T ED by one star's mysterious, moving flame "■-^ O'er hill and vale, o'er desert, moor and fen, From out the dim, rich. Eastern lands they came In kingly majesty, the Three Wise Men. All things they left when they, athwart the sky, Beheld the beckoning beam that planet shed, All princely pleasures they at once put by To seek the Saviour, wheresoe'er it led. Haply there stood full oft beside the way The worldly-wise who mocked their holy quest. But they, unheeding what the world might say, Following the star, still ever onward pressed. Until their faith at last received reward. And He they sought revealed Himself to them, When bowing low their Saviour they adored Within the stable walls of Bethlehem ! [64 L^ SONGS OF SUNRISE Head and Heart npHE work accomplished by the head, You can't deny (my grand-dad said) ; Not much a fellow may effect Who doesn't use his intellect. But let him not forget the part In life allotted to the heart. High places in the world are found By those whose heads are strong and sound ; Great deeds by such as these are done, Great glittering prizes earned and won. But, mark my words, the richest prize Should never blind a fellow's eyes To truth, to kindness, to the sight Of other strugglers toward the light. The man who uses just his head May be too shrewd (my grand-dad said). [6s] SONGS OF SUNRISE May gain the world but lose his hold On things that can't be won by gold, The head is strong, the head is wise, Without its use you can not rise, Without its use (my grand-dad said), I guess you might as well be dead. So go, and do the best you can, But don't forget your fellow-man, And in the street or chaff'ring mart Remember still to use your heart. [66] SONGS OF SUNRISE Gaelic Farewell to Sorrow CORRA — bad scran to yeh ! ^ Back o' me han' to yeh ! Wairy I am of your head hangin' down ! Let me have done wud yeh, Sure, there's no fun wud yeh — Off and begone wud yerself an' yer frown ! Sorra — bad cess to yeh ! That an' no less to yeh ! Off wud yeh ! Leave me, I'm sick o' yer groans ! Throth, 'tis a curse yeh are, Every day worse yeh are, Sad as a hearse rowHng over the stones. Sorra — bad wind to yeh ! Aye, an' bad ind to yeh ! I've been a frind to yeh oft in the past, But yeh've so saddened me, Moidhered an' maddened me, I am compelled to evict veh at last ! [67] SONGS OF SUNRISE i Sorra — bad luck to yeh ! Long have I stuck to yeh ! Long, aye, too long, yeh have housed in me heart ! But I'm desirin' now, You'll be retirin' now, Off with yeh, Sorra, I'm glad we must part ! 68] SONGS OF SUNRISE St. Patrick and King Darry C AINT PATHRICK was bitther enough ^ With thim ould pagan dhruids an' princes ; An' faith, if they gave him much guff, He could soon bring thim lads to their sinses. But Pathrick was kind to the poor — He'd go hungry an' dhry for their sakes — Och, he loved every crature, I'm sure, Always barrin' the snakes ! Yes, he loved every one, young an' ould, — The hares an' the deer an' the rabbits. — An' he'd love even serpents, I'm tould, If they hadn't such horrible habits. The birds an' the bastes of the wood, No matter how timid an' wild. Faith, they didn't fear Pathrick the Good Any more nor a child. One day, by King Darry, the Saint A fine piece of counthry was granted. An' along with the monarch he went, To look at the land so much wanted. [69] SONGS OF SUNRISE When what should they see but a doe Lyin' there in the midst of the bawn, Her eyes with affection aglow Lookin' down on her fawn. With that the hot blood of the King Boiled up with the deer-hunter's passion ; His javelin he lifted to fling, In the most approved blood-letting fashion ; But the Saint laid a grip on his hand, And boldly commanded him : "No. Your Majesty, this is my land, And deer-hunting don't go ! " Then he tenderly raised the young deer, An' coaxed back the shiverin' mother, Whose dark eyes, dilated with fear. Were lookin' from one to the other. An' thin to King Darry he said : *'For an abbey you gave me this place; I'll make it a shelter instead For all deer from the chase ! '* Thus Pathrick outwitted the King, The chief of thim ould pagan princes, An' faith, 'tis himself that could bring With his curse thim same lads to their sinses. [70] """"■" '""" SONGS OF SUNRISE The King whin he found he was sould Was so mad his fri'nds thought he would burst, But he kept very quiet I'm tould, For he feared he'd be curst ! 71 SONGS OF SUNRISE Paddy and the Parson There are many stories in Ireland illustrating the zeal of certain members of the church "as by law established" to make converts from among the Irish peasantry, who, it need hardly be said, were and are steadfast adherents of their own Church. Many of these stories are intensely pathetic, show- ing the struggle of a much-tempted people to cling to their old faith; others furnish amusing examples of the deftness with which an Irishman can get out of a difficulty. Here I have simply put into rhyme a story well-known in Ireland. QAYS the Parson to Paddy: "Your cow is a bad-looking beast. What makes her so scrawny and thin?" RepHed Paddy : ''No wondher ! The crathur gets hardly a taste ; Sure my land here is not worth a pin. This place I pay rint for is nothin' but mountain an' bog, An' the grass is both scanty and poor ; Ah, but if I had only the good grass to give her, begog, She'd be as fat as your own, I am sure." Says the Parson: "Well, Pat, you may send your cow up to my farm, [72] ■Mii SONGS OF SUNRISE And there let her eat to her fill ; And all that I'll ask for her grazing won't do you much harm — In fact, 'tis to help you it will. Just come to my service next Sunday — ah, don't be a slave To Father Maguire and his Mass ! — Come and hear me expounding the Bible; your soul it may save, And remember — your cow's on my grass." Well, up went the cow to the minister's farm. And then Came Sunday to puzzle poor Pat. Oh, he went to his usual Mass with the rest of the men. Faith, he thought he'd be sure about that. But then as the day wore along and he thought of his ''baste" He didn't know just what to do. "Arrah, sure, his ould sermon," says he, "won't hurt me in the laste" — So he went to the Parson's church, too. But of Pat's double-dealing on Monday the minister heard, And hastened to take him to task. [73] SONGS OF SUNRISE ''Ah, Paddy, you villain," says he, ''you have broken your word ! What's the meaning of this, may I ask?" But Pat was demure though his eye gave a comical roll, As he made this remark with a bow : "Your honor, I wint to my church for the good of my soul, An' to yours for the good of my cow !" [74I SONGS OF SUNRISE A Continued Story \T7HATE'ER opinions some parade And preach with loud insistence, I can't beUeve that man was made For just this brief existence. We might indeed bewail our birth If this is what it all meant, But I have faith this life on earth Is just the first instalment. Must we believe this life of man With all its hints of glory Is, bounded by an earthly span, A sort of lame short story ? Ah, no, — a grander fate is his. It shines from many a text, Man's life a serial story is — Continued in our next. [75 SONGS OF SUNRISE Summer Dreams TF I had my wish today I would soon be far away From the burden and the yoke, From the smother and the smoke, From the fever and the fret, From the hurry and the sweat. From the fiery furnace heat Of the crowded city street. Oh, I know a place full well Where the gods of silence dwell. Where contentment keeps her school In the shadows deep and cool ; Where the water-spiders glide O'er the softly-flowing tide ; Where the robin stops to sing ; Where the swallow wets his wing ; Where the willows lean and look In the mirror of the brook. If I had my wish — if I From the town today could fly, [76] SONGS OF SUNRISE That's the place I'd Hke to see, In that place I'd like to be. But I would not go alone To that place so dearly known. Nay, sweetheart, were you not there 'Twould be neither sweet nor fair. Dearer far the city street Than the restfullest retreat, If the beauty of its skies Were not mirrored in your eyes ; If beside its waters blue Long I looked but found not you ! [77 SONGS OF SUNRISE Bird and Bard jT^H, bless the bird that sings with glee ^^ When morn the sky is gilding, That sings with glee though busy he For wife and babies building ; A father's load he bravely bears, With mouths to feed a-many, Yet sings as if, with all his cares, He had no trace of any ! Oh, bless the bard who sings of hope. We hst his songs with pleasure ; He gives us strength with care to cope. His lays we love and treasure. And though he knows of life the stings More keenly than his brothers. He lifts his voice and nobly sings To cheer the hearts of others ! [78] SONGS OF SUNRISE Shakespeare's Limitations and Ours V^HEN Shakespeare wrote his plays and things He had no rhyming dictionary, And no thesaurus lent him wings By helping him his words to vary ; No ready reference books he had, All nicely filled with apt quotations — I grant his work is not so bad Considering those limitations. When William Shakespeare wrote his verse His gray goose quill was apt to linger, He had no fountain pen — and worse, No type machine he had, to finger. These things had been a precious boon To him had he but known about them. But William lived a while too soon, Alas, he had to do without them ! Today we've every kind of aid To make the art of writing easy ; We've books of every kind and grade To help to make our fancy breezy. [79] SONGS OF SUNRISE On prose and verse both night and day, The type machines go chcking, clacking Yet Shakespeare beats us still, they say, I wonder what the deuce we're lacking? 80] SONGS OF SUNRISE Not "Can't" but "Will" ^'pAN'T!" ^Tan't!" "Can't!" The world is weary of the word — Sounds exactly Hke the croak of some ill-omened bird — Better far to say "I can !" "I can !" But, better still, Let a fellow face the world and say "I will!" "I will!" ''Can't!" ''Can't!" "Can't!" I wish we'd never hear again That distressing syllable that spoils the plans of men. Steals the courage from their hearts before the fight's begun, Makes them shirk the struggle that, once in, they might have won. "Can't!" "Can't!" "Can't!" Oh, let us drop it from our speech ; 'Tis a word that puts the goal, success, beyond our reach ; [8i] SONGS OF SUNRISE Let no thought of failure enter in our faith to kill, Let us drop this " can't " and use the words " I will I "I will!" 82 SONGS OF SUNRISE Average Americans /^H, we are but average fellows, Who lead the most commonplace lives, Our names never stare from the ''yellows," We never steal other men's wives ; We're never caught cutting the capers Of those on Society's list, We furnish no scares for the papers — We're men the reporters have missed. Nor wealthy, nor wild, nor romantic, Our lot on the level is cast. We never drive silly m^aids frantic To trace our mysterious past ; The tenderloin doesn't adore us. We're neither be-curst nor be-kist, We couldn't tell one in the chorus, We're men the reporters have missed. It may be we bow to the fashion In owning an auto — what then ? We are not possessed of the passion For running down babies or men, [83] SONGS OF SUNRISE The killing of gentle old ladies Amuses us not, we insist ; But then we're not headed for Hades, \ We're men the reporters have missed. Yes, we are but commonplace fellows, And ours is the average lot ; Our lives don't appeal to the "yellows," We furnish no columns of ''rot" ; And yet, gentle reader, don't blame us, 'Twere better like this to exist Than shine with the foohshly famous — We're men the reporters have missed. [84] SONGS OF SUNRISE The Tlpperary-man^ V^TALKING out when work was done, A somewhat sad and weary man, Suddenly I chanced to run Across a Tipperary-man. Just as suddenly my fears And broodings, dark and tragic too, All my trials and my tears Left me, and like magic too. For his eyes so bright and blue Were beaming with good nature O, And such mirth as ne'er I knew Shone from every feature O [ Till I felt that he must be Own cousin to a fairy-man, Such sorcery he wrought in me This genial Tipperary-man ! There be pleasant men from Clare, And pleasant men from Kerry, too, [8s] SONGS OF SUNRISE Cork and Limerick and Kildare Antrim, Down and Derry too. Every spot of Ireland's ground, Every town and county O, There may sunny men be found Heirs of Ireland's bounty O ! East and west and south and north, Send abroad their noted men. Men of wit and men of worth. Quaint and often-quoted men. All apostles of the day, Missioners of cheerfulness, Enemies of grieving gray, Banishers of tearfulness. But if e'er again I pine A silent, sad and weary man. May this blessed boon be mine — To meet a Tipperary-man ! [86] SONGS OF SUNRISE The Troubadour T_T E sang of olden Spain — the song Came upward from the street below, And bore in every tone a throng Of golden dreams of long ago ; And all the dead and gone romance Of that old land beyond the sea Came back to capture and entrance My spirit with its witchery. He sang of olden Spain — there moved Before my gaze the warrior men Of fair Castile, whose prowess proved The downfall of the Saracen ; With swords of steel and souls of fire, Their banners blowing in the wind, Rode onv/ard many a knight and squire Across the mirror of my mind. He sang of olden Spain — the land With glorious gonfalon unfurled, The shadow of whose mailed hand Struck terror into half the world ; [87] SONGS OF SUNRISE The magic of whose name was known To strange, wild people over seas, The echo of whose fame was blown In all men's ears by every breeze. He sang of olden Spain — I heard A fountain musically fall, A wand'ring wind went by and stirred A rose-tree trained against a wall ; A tinkling lute with voices blent Went o'er and o'er a lover's rhyme, The while a convent belfry sent Across the land the vesper chime. He sang of olden Spain — and ceased. My dreaming ended there and then, My spirit from its spell released Came back to consciousness again. The present, commonplace and plain, Effaced the splendor and romance Evoked by that Castilian strain A strolling singer sang by chance. [88] SONGS OF SUNRISE The Last Fight T ' VE had my days of dark defeat, -■■ I've had my hours of vain regret, Now must I brace my soul to meet A darker shadow yet. Surrender or retreat no more Can save me from what must befall, For now I face as ne'er before The fiercest foe of all. Where drums conjure men to be brave 'Twere hard enough to face the fight, But, God, what courage one must have Alone, and in the night ! 89 SONGS OF SUNRISE Little Norry Sullivan T ITTLE Norry Sullivan, she's gone to join the -*^ nuns — Ain't it sthrange the convent often gets the wildest ones? Making fun an' frolickin' you'll see them here to- day, Look around to-morrow, an' bedad, they're gone away. Gone away to be a nun. Gone away from all the fun, Faith, 'tis queer an' sthrange it is, a chara, as you say. Sure, 'twas she was just like that — a wilder never stept ! Do you mind how fast she ran, how fearlessly she leapt ? Everything her brothers did, 'twas she could do the same, (As for quiet Kevin, sure, she put the lad to shame). Out she was from morn till night, Playin' bail was her delight, — [90] SONGS OF SUNRISE' Norry's side was sure to win when she was in the game. Man alive, but 'twas herself that was the lively lass, Hardly could keep still while Father Toole was say- ing Mass. Thrying hard to keep her mind upon her little book, But the open window oft would lure her longing look. Then you'd know her mind had slipped From her prayin' an' had skipped Out among the meadows in the softly-growin' grass. Sure, it seems like yestherday I saw her up an' down, Runnin' like a redshank through the sthreets o' Carrick town, Double-knockin' people's doors, an' ringin' people's bells, Makin' people nervous with her screeches an' her yells. But — she's all grown up to-day An' she's left an' gone away, Gone to be a Sisther in the convent down at Kelis. Wondher what came over her ! Ah, sure, 'tis hard to know ; All that I can say is, no one wanted her to go. Naither of her parents liked the step she took at all, [91] SONGS OF SUNRISE An' there was one boy who felt that he'd just like to bawl. But 'twas Norry didn't mind ; All their talk was only wind ; Said she had it in her heart, and that she must obey the call ! Little Norry Sullivan, God mark your soul to grace ! Here's my blessin' on your heart an' on your happy face, Here's my blessin' on your work an' on your prayin' too. On whatever task the Lord may give your hand to do! An' whatever be His will, May your heart be merry still, Little Norry Sullivan, sure, that's my wish for you ! [92] SONGS OF SUNRISE Love's Joy and Grief LOVE lifts us to the height of the immortals, Love gives us sight until we almost see The bliss that hides behind the shining portals Of God's eternity ! Ah, yes, Love's joy is sweet beyond believing ; And blest is he whose life has felt its power ; But what of him whose heart has known the griev- ing Of Love's sad hour ! 93 SONGS OF SUNRISE The Wearing of the Blue^ A H, Paddy dear, an' did ye hear "^^ The news that's gone abroad ? The blue is Ireland's color — sure, The green is all a fraud. No man St. Patrick's day can keep The way he used to do, 'Tis now declared instead of green We all must wear the blue ! Oh, I met with Napper Tandy — An' he says to me : " Asthore, What big bosthoons we all have been This hundred years or more ! What fools we've been to shed our blood For flags of verdant hue. When all the while our rightful flag Was never green, but blue !" 1 Some years ago, in reply to a query by a correspondent, the New York Sun said that blue and not green was the real national color of Ireland. Whereupon Mr. McCarthy wrote these lines which were published in the Sun. [94] SONGS OF SUNRISE 'Twas bad enough to have to wear Old England's cruel red, But now we have to change again, An' wear the blue instead. So pluck the shamrock from your hat *Tis false instead of true. An' wear no shamrock after this, — Unless the same be blue ! Oh, I met with Napper Tandy, An' he said : " It can't be — no ! '* "Yet if you see it in the ^wn," Says I, ''it must be so." He sighed and answered: "Surely this Is hard on me an' you. How can we ever change our tune To 'The Wearin' of the Blue ' ? " 95) SONGS OF SUNRISE Love and War *|\^ yJUST Love be silent when the brazen tongue ■^^■^ Of war's loud tocsin fills the land with dread ? When flaunting war-flags to the winds are flung, And hearts grow sick with sorrow for the dead ? When harsh and sullen the imperious drum Commands our country's long repose to cease, Must Love be silent, must the lips be dumb That erewhile sang his songs in perfect peace ? Ah, not for peace alone love here exists, Nor are his songs made only for delight. Love enters, too, the nations' bloody lists To fire the hearts and nerve the arms that fight. The awful clamor of the days of strife New strength and meaning to his songs impart. And thus is Love through all the ways of life The chosen minstrel of the human heart. 96 SONGS OF SUNRISE To be Kind TT is hardly worth while to be anything else but -■- kind, — There are sinners around us, 'tis true, but how often we find That the bad would not be half so bad if they were not so blind ! It is hardly worth while to be anything else but just, For today or tomorrow we die, and our bodies are dust. And the millionaire lies with the beggar who craved for a crust. It is hardly worth while to be anything else but good, — It is meet that we follow the Master the way that we should. It is meet that we love Him and serve Him the way that He would. To be honest and pure, to be faithful and brave and resigned — [97] SONGS OF SUNRISE Is the standard He sets for a heart and a soul and mind, And always and aye to the end, to be kind — to be kind! [98] t SONGS OF SUNRISE If it Doesn't Ring True TF it doesn't ring true — -■' Then there's nothing to do But to tear up your poem and start on another ; If it isn't sincere There is reason to fear That it never will reach to the heart of a brother. And no matter how fine Every phrase, every line, And no matter how clever each word seems to you, An essential 'twill miss, If it's lacking in this, And 'twill fail in its work if it doesn't ring true. If it doesn't ring true — Then there's nothing for you But return to your toil with persistence and passion ; If it fails in this test Then you've failed of your best, And there's nothing to do but a better to fashion. For your verse is a bell — If you wish it to swell [99] SONCS OF SUNRISE With a message to men of a mission to do. In its molding beware, Of its casting take care, For the crown of your craft is to make it ring true ! [loo] LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 015 909 191