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Updated: June 15, 2025
Hurrah for the vengeance of old Mullaghmast, On the blood-bolter'd ground where your gauntlet was cast; Hurrah for the vengeance of Tara's proud hill, Where the bones of our monarchs are blood-sprinkled still. Hurrah for Clontarf, though the Saxon may smile, The last, greatest triumph of Erin's green isle!
"My father had done well on the whole. He had saved for years and kept his money in banks or in ships, which he understood. But now, when the Erin's Isle was sold and he found himself worth about fifty thousand dollars, he began to invest in all sorts of queer ventures. He wanted to double his fortune before he died.
In vain was the monster document unrolled in Faneuil Hall, and many Abolitionists with Irish blood were put forward to sweep the chords of Erin's heart, and to conjure by their eloquence the disciples of St. Patrick to rally under the banner of freedom. There was no response, except the response of bitter foes. Erin's harp vibrated to no breeze which did not come out of the South.
That open brow, that courteous grace, Bespeaks thee of thy generous race; Thy father's soul is in thy smile Thrice blest his name in Erin's isle. The heart's warm welcome, Clara, meets thee; Thy native land, dear lady, greets thee. The bright star shining on the night, Betokening good, spreads quick delight; But quicker far, more glad surprise, Wakes the kind radiance of her eyes.
In her first litter by Killeney Boy were Play Boy, Pretty Lass, Poppy, Gerald, Pagan II., and Peggy, every one of whom became famous. More than one of these showed the black markings of their granddam, and their progeny for several generations were apt to throw back to the black-and-tan, grey, or brindle colouring. Play Boy and Poppy were the best of Erin's first litter.
Are Erin's sons so good or so cold as not to be tempted by woman, even without the gold? Are there not soldiers still to the fore too inflammable to be trusted near an ammunition wagon? Are there not the bonne bouche comes at last priests and deacons? The instant a man takes orders, celibacy becomes intolerable to him.
Then, as to your "Squadrons," your "Mount for Repeal," 'Twas merely to teach them the "Right about wheel," By the word of command from the Saxon to run, As your leader would fly from a bailiff or dun; In short, since a miss is as good as a mile, Swear the whole was a humbug for Erin's green isle. Besides, these are delicate moments to croak, Since the Saxon's new plan of a word and a stroke.
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