h^ cP Q ■<% <^ o H o y^p' 4 o o i-s^ o > <^^e^ %d ^M^'^"^ ^/ ^^ %'vi^/ J" %. ^. >-\^ 4^ %c^ '^0^ ^4 o^ ^'■■ V^ © J 1 />i|g;^" rj ^ ^^, ,^ v^>-. phtriotig^poehi •!03xr IRELAND wA.3>J33 t:e3ce:<^ IRISH PEOPLE, PUBLISHED BY PATRIOTIC POEM ON IRELAND and the IRISH PEOPLE Descriptive of the generous soul Wlio must despise usurped control; Which sentiment holds highest place In all of the Milesian race. Likewise, will this poem explain Some tryanny of Bessie's reign, And how, by Saxon cunning fraud, Has Erin felt the vengeful rod. Her hopes and energies trod down By tyrant rule — usurper's crown; And how for ages she withstood While tyrants drained her martyrs' blood. —By a CLAN- A BOY. F. J. O'Neill. INTRODUCTION. Dear Readers : I find that the following poem was written on the 19tli January, 1875, and was called for because Dougall, of the Montreal Witness, had advertised a premium for the best poems on Ireland and the Irish people. And the writer of this our patriotic poem had observed (by reading some of the poems which appeared in the papers and were headed in com petition for the prize) that the animus of the poem writers was hostile to that honor and glory which is the rightful inher- itance of true Irishmen, and having reason to believe that the Montreal Witness was a defamer of the Irish people, he set about to write a true poem on Ireland, all of which he wrote on the night of Tuesday, 19tli January. He found that the premium had on that day been awarded to some other. He well knew that Dougall would not give publication to this poem; and as it is now in my possession I bring it before tlie public bocause I considered it to be too truthful and too patriotic to be left iohgeir in oblivion. If this will meet the desires and approbation of those for whom it is intended. I will shortly bring before the people some poems written by the same author, upon subjects very interesting to old and to the young, and well calculated to es- tablish elevated ideas and noble principles in the reader. In this poem I intend offering to the reader that source of pastime, pleasure and satisfaction which I hope you will all enjoy in the reading thereof. While I remain yours sincerely, The publisher, F. J. O'Neill. A poem friend Dougall could admire (On Erin) to get his desire. He offers premium for the best, Which raiglit induce some poor distressed To write with view of pleasing him And suit the story to his whim, Since judge of poems may well decide As prejudice or whim will guide. These things considered, in full scope Of the premium sum. destroys my hope; Since facts I'll state with truthful ease, Whether they please or may displease. And this I write in double haste I know won't suit friend Dougall 's taste. But if truth, exempt from all disguise, Prevails, I ought to get the prize. And as 1 find 1 come too late For the premium sum, I don't compete. Thus independently I stand, So truth and justice will command Each sentence that I will indite, And state each line I mean to write — Which poem will speak where'er it goes Of Erin's greatness, wrongs, and woes. POEIVL. In the Atlantic ocean, west Of England, lies an island blest With fertile soil and wholesome air. In Europe, there's no isle so fair With mountains, rivers, valleys greeo. This isle, long named the ocean queen, In high pre-eminence does stand. And this the isle called Ireland. The climate there is mild and good. No frost intense to chill the blood. No sultry sun will incommode The weary traveller on his road, Nor will his burning beams half broil The workman at his daily toil. By gentle breezes always fanned Is Nature's favorite, Ireland. But to describe all Erin's beauty Is to one hand a hopeless duty, Because a lifetime would he spend Ere he would half get to the end. Each harbor, lake, coast, creek and bay. From Cove of Cork to the Causeway, With her great edifices hoary That yet proclaim her ancient glory. And since for natural beauty she Is the gem emerald of the sea, On her no longer need I dwell, As history gives her tale so well. If more her merits would yon scan, Read Arosius and McGeogh-e-gan, While I'll endeavor to describe Her nobly brave Milesian tribe. McGeogh-e-gan did clearly trace This great Milesian noble race. At Noah has he first begun, And on through Japhet, Noah's son. There follows in his catalogue From Japhet's son the great Magog. Through Finius Farsa, Scythian king, He does the learned Niull bring. To Egypt Niul crosses the water And married Pharaoh's lovely daughter- The beauteous Scota was her name. From these the Gadaleans came; Which tribe we find did emigrate And settled for a time in Crete, Till afterwards they moved again And fixed their colony in Spain. This colony increased in Spain. At length Milesius came to reign. Soon after he departed life His sons — with them his widowed wife- Embarked and left the Spanish shore For a western island to explore, Which isle, by Druid's prophecy, Was to become their property. The Milesians gained the Irish soil And settled there despite turmoil, Having bards and sages, even more Men versed in all the ancient lore. Then Erin's sons were educated, As is by truthful writers stated. In learning more than Grecian sages In the learning of the pagan ages. And such did pagan Druids teach Until St. Patrick came to preach The Gospel, and Christ crucified, And rrect the church for which Christ died. The pagans met him face to face. And quickly did the truth embrace, Which proves, with other facts combined, They were educated and refined. If not educated and refined. With gentle soul and enlightened mind, Had ignorance in them been stronger They would have sat in darkness longer; For by observing we can find That the more enlightened is the mind The more it will in truth delight. And more easily brought from wrong to right. There then was education nourished, The Church of Christ for ages flourished; The people freed from sinful taints, And Ireland was the isle of saints. Religious houses were erected, And men of learning were respected. Then Irleand, the most learned nation, Was Garden styled, of Education. Age after age, her children good, Proud Ireland in her greatness stood. With saints and sages, warriors too. Among the nations were but few Or none, with Erin could compare For sons so brave and daughters fair. Fair, chaste and pure as Erin's waters A¥ere Erin's lovely, noble daughters. Such was the state of Ireland then, Though ignorantly blinded men, Degraded souls in foul condition, Say these were days of superstition. No, they were days of heartfelt pleasure, Religion was the heavenly treasure That Irish prized, and truly sought, And worshipped God as Christians ought. Then Religion, Love, and Liberty Increased in Ireland day by day. Although some feud or war or strife At times may have embittered life, The Irish had a happy nation Till Luther spouted Reformation. Then tyranny, by vengeful stroke, On the Irish strove to force the yoke, Here now did Ireland's pleasures end, When Harry and his choicest friend, And Ned and Bessy's majesty Combined to drive true faith away. Then Bess commenced her penal laws To aid the Retormation cause. While martyrs bled beneath her thongs- And here we're into Ireland's wrongs. The penal laws oppress the people; Off their church must come the steeple. Their priest's head rated as the wolf's, Their headless bodies thrown in gulfs. Some were consigned to watery graves, Some nobles were sold off as slaves, And heroes dragged to suffer slaughter On Bessy's wheel, Scavenger's Daughter. The pitch cap, gibbet, and the rack. Followed in this murderous track; And Erin (once a glorious nation), Bylaw deprived of education. Despoiled of commerce and of trade, This state of things more bloodshed made, And drove men from their homes afar Or forced them to defensive war. Our brave, unconquered warrior clan Withstood the Saxon to a man. In many a well-fought battlefield They made the tyrant Saxon yield. For years and years these warriors bled — Their martial spirit never fled From the succeeding generation, Proved by the following quotation : — 10 " Remember at CloHtarf, how the heroes defended Our country, and freed it from the tyrant Dane. Their invincible spirit through posterity descended, And urged our ancestors to conquest again. The clan Hyniall of Erin, so long lamed for bravery, Oft marshalled their clans Saxon progress to curb. For centuries they freed this our loved land from slavery, Remember at Port More, Blackwater and Benburb. " At Limerick they fought, at Aughrim on the Shannon, No cowards or traitors among the Clan-a-boye. They conquered at Ardmagh. Fort Morris and Dungannon, And faced all the legions of bloody Mountjoy. With pride and grief mingled should be recollected Before conquering Felim how British forces ran, Till with their drawn bodies a bridge was erected On which the noble hero marched dry across the Bann.* " Drumfleigh the yellow ford in Clontabret still reminds us ( How these warriors conquered and swept down the foe. Who then could have thought that futurity would find us Trampled into slavery, mean, abject, and low. For centuries sixteen by them we were defended. The pride of Roman legions they humbled of old; Who would not feel proud when legally descended. Of such a line of heroes great, glorious, and bold." ••'• Wliere staiul^^ the bridge .since then called "the Battleford bridge." 11 ISTone but the dastard, craven soul Could tamely bear usurped control, Or aid the tyrant that oppressed And drained the life blood from his breast. Just so our noble Irish race Could not endure such foul disgrace, But fought and met their deaths like men, — Which proves the Irish warriors then, And are so still, where'er they stand, At home or in a foreign land. How Irishmen should yet enjoy The Irish deeds at Fontenoy; And let me, Saxon, ask of you, Who gained the day at Waterloo ? You must say he was Ireland's son, Though a hateful, cursed, disgraceful one. Enough of war, as it is well known, That Ireland, and but she alone. By stripling young and grand sire hoary, Still fought for country and God's glory. Yet they maintain their ancient creed, For which they bled and yet must bleed . Though robbed and plundered as a nation They kept the means of soul's salvation. 12 Next Erin's sons, with soul sublime, We find now placed in every clime. Of whom at home here I'll begin With the noble Earl Dufferin. Long may he live to well employ That pride of titles. Clan'a-Boye,'^ Which title proves, and without fail. He enjoys the rights of an O'Neill. His generous soul and manners mild Characterize old Erin's child, His gentleness in our opinion Must gain all hearts in the Dominion; His noble acts on every hand Do honor to old Ireland, And tell into the slanderer's face, " No tyrants came of Irish race."t For Ireland's orators and preachers, Her poets, lawyers, science teachers, No land can equal her, I'm sure. In her Grattan, Burke, O'Connell. Mooie, With Cahill and Curran, and a host Of patriot heroes she can boast. Seeflood and Emmett and Fitzgerald, — Can you match them in your Saxon world ? *Clan-a-buidh, or Clan-a-lioy— or as Dufterin wrote to his title, Clan de boy- was in daj's gone by the distinguishing soubriquet of the O'Neills. t'This eulogy was by the writ^.r given to Lord Dutferin, the then governor of Canada, because that he, in the exercise of his royal power, had a short time before pardoned and set at liberty two men, viz., Louis D. Riel and his companion, who had been found guilty of murder by the courts in Canada and M'ere then under sentence of death. 13 Now the merits of her sons discussed. To relate a something here I mnst, In relating whicli my mind grows sick. The conditions made at Limerick The treacherous Saxon shortly broke, Then on the Irish forced the yoke; And in perfidy they onward went Till the} robbed us of our parliament. John Bull has got the parliament. And Ireland's woes breed discontent. Her sons excluded from high places, Or must accept them with disgraces/" Being robbed by cunning Saxon fraud, She now must feel the Saxon rod; Her commerce gone, but what came of it It went for British tyrants' profit. Still worse by far their cunning tricks, By law they trampled Catholics, And pressed them sorely every way By Protestant ascendency; For Castlerea and Billy Pitt Would strengthen Saxon power by it, And weaken Freland's hopes, once hearty, By setting party against party. *An Irishman was excluded from every place of trust or profit unless he would sell his soul and renounce allegiance to his God. But the tyrant, thank God, com» paratively spealving-, found but few to sell their honor. u Internal strife is constant, and This scheme by British statesmen plann( Succeeded well, and gave them power To rule their dupes in evil hour — By which the Saxon still grew stronger- And held their dupes in bondage longer Than otherwise they could have done Had these party quarrels ne'er begun. As the building that is built on sand, Or house divided cannot stand, So the nation that will separate Through party feuds, will find too late That to their rivals they give strength^ And must to slavery fall at length As Ireland did, though not subdued, But weakened by vile party feud. These Erin's woes, but only part Which sorely crush the patriot's heart, Here let us see, if we're not blind, A remedy we yet might find For Erin's woes, for Erin's pain, To restore to her her rights again. That remedy we well may say , Is nothing less than unity. 15 We see some man of talent wiites, And 'peerless scietice^^ he invites, "To clear from slaver ij hi haste ^^Her soul ujjJianf cm-haunted waste. ^^ But this poor mnn, wo his condition, He dreads old Ireland's '' superstition,'" Which drend must in his stomach stick So long as he's a heretic. In presumptions darkness must he sit. Since the smoke that issued from the pit So dimmed his vision he can't see True faith, the fullest liberty That clears the soul, and frees the mind From bigotry, with which he's blind. Science he called, but meant to say, '' ' Come, infidel^ philosop)hy . ' ' Let Irishmen be all combined, Throw party feeling to the wind, Consider well their sad condition, And with warlike arms send petition, They shortly might be well content. And, blessed with their own parliament, Would flourish as in days of yore, With commercial freedom on the shore. 16' I wish these hopes were realized, Which will, if by the bulk advisecL Then Irish foes would pitch away That baneful love of bigotry Which did reduce the Irish nation And place her in such servile station. Then men would act one to the other As brother should with Christian brother.. My statements, which are truly strict, Some may incline to contradict. But the critic who may try such freak I guess will find his proofs too weak. Let you^ who feel this wring your maws. Read Scully on the penal laws. These things, as legal, there are stated, And worse by far than I related. To the Home Rule League I wish good speed Until it sees its country freed And stand once more in lofty station The greatest, bravest little nation, Possessing sons of noblest nature, With bravest soul and 7iianly feature. Rejoicing, free from slavery And cheered with smiling liberty. 17 When Erin's joys will have returned, For which the brave have long time nionrn'd, I then may write a^oother poem Descriptive of my Irish home Down in Tyrone, north of the Shannon, About a mile from sweet Dungannon, Where I have spent my boyhood days Pursuing truth and harmless plays. To bring this rhyir.ing to an end, Believe me, reader, I'm your friend, And one who, from his tender youth, Still held it crime to cloak the truth; Who spurns all falsehood and disguise, And must the sycophant despise. Straightforward truths did 1 employ, Which best becomes a Clan-a-boye. rvc,- .o>. « I t „ •* ' O 4q ^ ^IS^ ^j?9:^^ a ^> ve>. «■■■ ' ' ' A> ^ " " " <> «s * * ;■ cr* ^'■ ^ US' * -^^ ^. « o « o ^°-%, lO V*, 4^ , ^^ ^-^ 4 O,