PS Sl35^ OWEN McENEANETS ^\ Four New Poems -AND AN- AST. A UNION OF THE IRISH AND AMEEICAN FLAGS- ON THE ESOPUS CREEK And its Surroundsngs. A Landscape Scene in Old Hurley. YANKEE DOODLE AND PADDY WHACK, Or an Irish March to Freedom. HIP HURRAH FOR A REPUBLIC. Or Freedom's Hope and the Tyrant's Doom. CITY OF KINGSTON, N. Y. PUBLISHED BY OWEN McENEANY 1SS3. ^^W§S^% /Va ^fLWTASHltt^ i^V TO THE READER : Should this effort of poetry be acceptable to the public I will soon publish others, which I think are equally good» if not better. Two in particular, one entitled the "Fourth of July and St. Patrick's Day," written between the election and inauguration of the ever-to-be lamented James A. Garfield, President of the United States of America, and dedicated to him. The other a " Dream of Love or God's Love for^Man and Man's Ingratitude to God." [COPYRIGHT APPLIED FOR.] OLD 'SOPUS BANKS AND ISLANDS. Owen on old 'Sopus banks and islands, And on its ever lovely highlands, Sees many siorhts so sublime and grand As Nature's Gods can alone command. Owen's object there is the willow wand, Which grows on its isles and changing strand- While getting it what he sees and hears, Might gladden the poet's eyes and ears- Might gladden his very heart and sonl, Which the muses' genius would control, And inspire him to write a poem ; Not on ancient or modern Greece or Rome, But on Ulster's pride, the Esopus, With its rich valleys, hills and mou:itains, And the people that along it dwell, With birds and flowers in tree and dell. Its good and beautiful can well com pare With many more boasted ones elsev. h<'r(\ He who will it truly delineate, Will soon become master of his fate. Like Irving from his Sleepy Hollow, He'll soar so high none need him follow. The stream, its islands, banks hills and mounts, Prom its mouth to its Shandaken founts. Round its founts and along it everywhen\ Are views with which but few can (ujmpaie. One view for instance, in Old Hurley, Taken in a hurry, Hurley-burley : A large orchard, trees in buds and bloom. The sun bright shining in the forenoon, The birds in discordant melodies As they fly in air and sing on trees, The barnyard and the gardens close by Filled with various kinds of poultry. Many dogs and cats, some sporting around, Some lying lazily on the ground. Hogs rooting and grunting on the strand, Then wallowing in the nearest pond. The strand's gravel in great wagon loads. Taken to top-dress the public roads. Boys in boats Ashing for trout and bass, Or for any flsh that they can catch. others with guns shooting the bull-fropt, In ponds where wallow the sow and hog. The men at farming over the creek, Coming across their dinner to seek. Some on horseback, some in wagons and boats, Some wading, first rolling up their pants. The ladies of the house -but forbear, The artist may find some trouble there. He'll see them best in their garden bowers, Culling and training beautiful flowers. If not proof against fair beauty's smiles, He'll lose his heart 'mid flowers and wiles. Those sights with wild flowers in profusio;i, Make the real fairer than illusion. Yet they don't complete the lovely view, The bright sights still in view are not few. The great square stone house, the well-kept la .vm, The cows a milking at early dawn, When milked, going out to pastures green, Some with calves that live on milk and cream. A mare and foal on the grassy lawn. The foal as frisky as the lamb or fawn. Sporting around without thought or aim, Ne'er thinking that toil will him soon claim. Many sheep and lambs on the hillside, Some peeping through fences at hills more wide. The stage twice each day passing the door. With beauty never seen there before. But those strange beauties see beauty too. As fresh and fair as the morning dew. 'Sopus women are beautiful and fair, Without puliback dresses or banged hair. Hurley Village, its schoolhouse and church, Are to the eye from here hidden too much. But are plainly seen by the mind's eye. Without which all genius would soon die. Over the creek are some fine sallows, Which are generally known as willows, A basket maker sickle in hand, Is cutting them down right by the strand. When cut be sits on a log or stone, And prepares them for his city home. There he makes baskets for high and low. From Nature's willow that by 'Sopus grow. Beyond those willows are sedge and brush. Where build the catbird, robin and thrush. Behind are green meadows, rye and wheat. And great fields which men still cultivate. Further on is the old mountain road, Of^r whicn is still taken many a load. Over the road are hills and mountains, Some cultivated to their summits. On them are houses in glade and glen, In which dwell happy women and men; And children too, as fair as May-day, Who round the lawns and the meadows play. They fear no tramp, spook or the buggy. But laugh, sing and play happy-go-lucky. One great vineyard stands in relievo, On mountains tliat before were fallow. There appear now but wooris and mountains, Except a few small mountain houses. Distance make them small to the naked eye, Like great planets in the distant sky. The Catskillsin varied shades and hue, Form the distant and enchanting view. They with the clouds to which they are nigh. And the vault of heaven, the blue sky. Rough sketch a picture that no time or space. Can from the memory of man efface. Old 'Sopus rises in Shandaken, Empties at Saugerties in the Hudson. Forming on its way a great horseshoe. Having many kinks on and dents too. At the dents it when flushed makes rents, SL>reading over the valley their contents. Banks and fences then obstruct in vain. It takes all obstacles in its train. Yet it always keeps the valley new. Though its ovt rflows injure a few. Like the famous Nile's great overflow, Irs source and use to man some scarce know. Were it not for the Esopus floods. Its valleys would not produce such fruits. Ulster's garden would not be so good, Or yield the toiler half so much food. It rnakes scarce a rii)ple in the Hudson ; Though on its way down from Shandaken. Like a village bully it carries on. Till like him it meets a force more strong; Then like him in prison it gets lost, Or IS in the Hudson tempest tost. When in the Hudson it's seen no more. Thus 'Sopus gets lost off Hudson's shore. The Hudson, too, gets lost in the sea, To which it rushes right meriiiy. The sea is the earth's great reservoir. Which the clouds absorb as they require. Distributing water over earth ag-iin, In beautiful snowflakes, hail and rain. The sea is the earth's heart, its seat of life, To it earth's waters rush through all strife. Thith-r all- free waters go with speed. The sun and the earth the balance need. They, when refreshed by the ocean's brine. Return by the clouds time after time. Thus 'twixt the earth, the clouds and ocean, There exists a perpetual motion, Which keeps nature fresh and the earth green. Supplying man's wants unpaid, unseen. All nature combines to make man happy, Man alone is man's worst pnemy. The good things given by God for all, The harpies grab and keep man in thrall. Thus man has been and is the harpies prey, Man still toils and groans, while harpies' play, Old 'Sopus godlike treats all alike, Gives man food and drink, the m^ads bedeck. Did man deal with man as does 'Sopus, There would on earth be much less rumpus. YANKEE DOODLE AND PADDY WHACK, Or an Irisli Marcli to Freedom . Yankee Doodle and Paddy Whack Never to the foe turn their back. They always give him blow for blow. And in the end whipt make him go. Yankee Doodle at Bunker's Hill, Some of John Bull's blood did spill. The crop in growing was notrslow, And soon in torrents it did flow. CHORUS. Then here's to Yankee and Paddy Whack, Who to the foe never turn their back, Who always give him blow for blow. And in the end whipt make him go. Brave Paddy Whack at Old Benburb, Did John's marauding progress curb. He put his robbers in a plight. And slaughtered them both left nnd right. 7 But". Parldy's Chief, Owen Eoe O'Neil, John did with poison his blood congeal, So Paddy till the present day. Is robbed in John's own robbing way. CHORUS. Then here's to Yankee and Paddy Whack, &c. Yankee on Saratoga's plains, Made old John Bull4)ull up his reins. Made him deliver his men and store. Then went right on in search of more. At Yorktown he met John again, There captured his chief, stores and men, And put on Liberty a crown That John could never since pull down. CHORUS. Then here's to Yankee and Paddy Whack, &c. Paddy Whack at Limerick City, Made with John a solemn treaty. John signed it on the treaty stone In future to let Pat alone. But John that treaty on the sly Broke before the ink was dry. So Paddy must fight John again. If his rights he would maintain. CHORUS. Then here's to Yankee and Paddy Whack, &c. Brave Yankee Doodle on th© lakes. Put to John's big ships his brakes. Pressed them right down into the deep, Whence Yank's best song first did peep. And 'way down at New Orleans, He served John as Paddy did the Danes. Drove him right clean into the sea. And was of him forever frf^e.-^j CHORUS. Then here's to Yankee and Paddy Whack, &g. Brave Paddy Whack at Fontenoy, Did all John Bull's best troops destroy. With one quick volley and cold steel. He made them stagger, squ^^al and reel. Sarsfield his chief on Landen plains When he saw life's current leave his veins. Took his heart's warm blood in his hand, " Oh ! that this was far my own land." CHOKUS. Then here's to Yankee and Paddy Whack, &c. Yankee after the rebellion. Made John pay fifteen million, And only took that on account, John must yet must pay the full amount. John now stands on his behavior To be with Yank a good neighbor. Should he only move in his shoes, The Dominion he'll surely lose. CHORUS. Then here's to Yankee and Paddy Whack, &g. Paddy has a long account with John, Which John must settle before long. Else Paddy may make him pay double, Whichwill double all his trouble. John robbed him of his wealth at d good name. Put him to torture and to shame. Fort e crimes John must pay the score, Paddy at his delay feels sore. CHORUS. Then here's to Yankee and Paddy Whack, Who to the foe never turn their back. Who always give him blow for blow. And in the end whipt make him go. HIP HURKAH FOR A REPUBLIC. Hip hurrah for a Eepublic, For Ireland and Britain too. Both united in one union, Loved and respected the world through, Not to be as they are to-day, Wherever England holds sway or trade, A bugbear in Liberty's way. Keeping the nations in a haze, Each free state to rule itself. All men to vote for its rulers, As well as for a President. And for its members of Congress. States apportlonm«5nt may run thus : Ireland five by territory, Great Britain bv tiie same process, Each free, each helping each loyally. Let them have no king or master, Let them have no lord or slave, Let them show that Freedom's hero Is the bravest of the brave. There are nations still, not Christians, That shoul