A Book of Irish Verse. Various

did hear.'

      'But, mother, you know the fiddle

       Hangs close beside the chink,

       And the wind upon the strings

       Is playing the tune I think.'

      (The pig grunts.)

       'Mary, I hear the pig,

       Unaisy in his mind.'

       'But, mother, you know, they say

       The pigs can see the wind.'

      'That's true enough in the day, But I think you may remark, That pigs no more nor we Can see anything in the dark.'

      (The dog barks.)

      'The dog is barking now,

       The fiddle can't play the tune.'

       'But, mother, the dogs will bark

       Whenever they see the moon.'

      'But how could he see the moon,

       When, you know, the dog is blind?

       Blind dogs won't bark at the moon,

       Nor fiddles be played by the wind.

      'I'm not such a fool as you think,

       I know very well it is Pat:—

       Shut your mouth, you whistlin' thief,

       And go along home out o' that!

       'And you be off to your bed,

       Don't play upon me your jeers;

       For though I have lost my eyes,

       I haven't lost my ears!'

       Samuel Lover

SOGGARTH AROON

       Table of Contents

      Am I the slave they say,

       Soggarth aroon?

       Since you did show the way,

       Soggarth aroon,

       Their slave no more to be, While they would work with me Old Ireland's slavery, Soggarth aroon.

      Why not her poorest man,

       Soggarth aroon,

       Try and do all he can,

       Soggarth aroon,

       Her commands to fulfil

       Of his own heart and will,

       Side by side with you still

       Soggarth aroon?

      Loyal and brave to you,

       Soggarth aroon,

       Yet be not slave to you,

       Soggarth aroon,

       Nor, out of fear to you—

       Stand up so near to you—

       Och! out of fear to you, Soggarth aroon!

      Who, in the winter's night,

       Soggarth aroon,

       When the cold blast did bite,

       Soggarth aroon,

       Came to my cabin-door,

       And, on my earthen-floor,

       Knelt by me, sick and poor,

       Soggarth aroon?

      Who, on the marriage day,

       Soggarth aroon,

       Made the poor cabin gay,

       Soggarth aroon?—

       And did both laugh and sing,

       Making our hearts to ring,

       At the poor christening,

       Soggarth aroon?

      Who, as friend only met,

       Soggarth aroon,

       Never did flout me yet,

       Soggarth aroon?

       And when my heart was dim,

       Gave, while his eye did brim,

       What I should give to him,

       Soggarth aroon?

      Och! you, and only you,

       Soggarth aroon!

       And for this I was true to you,

       Soggarth aroon,

       In love they'll never shake,

       When for old Ireland's sake,

       We a true part did take,

       Soggarth aroon!

      John Banim