When law can stop the blades of grass from growin' as they grow,
And when the leaves in summer-time their colour dare not show,
Then I will change the colour, too, I wear in my caubeen,
But till that day, plaze God, I'll stick to wearin' o' the green.

THE SORROWFUL LAMENTATION OF CALLAGHAN, GREALLY AND MULLEN

KILLED AT THE FAIR OF TURLOUGHMORE

A STREET-BALLAD

This is a genuine ballad of the people, written and sung among them. The reader will see at once how little resemblance it bears to the pseudo Irish songs of the stage, or even to the street-ballads manufactured by the balladsingers. It is very touching, and not without a certain unpremeditated grace. The vagueness, which leaves entirely untold the story it undertook to recount, is a common characteristic of the Anglo-Irish songs of the people. The circumstance on which it is founded took place in 1843, at the fair of Darrynacloughery, held at Turloughmore. A faction-fight having occurred at the fair, the arrest of some of the parties led to an attack on the police; after the attack had abated or ceased, the police fired on the people, wounded several, and killed the three men whose names stand at the head of the ballad. They were indicted for murder, and pleaded the order of Mr. Brew, the stipendiary magistrate, which was admitted as a justification. Brew died before the day appointed for his trial.-Note by Sir Charles Gavan Duffy, Ballad Poetry of Ireland.

'COME, tell me, dearest mother, what makes my father stay, Or what can be the reason that he's so long away?'

'Oh! hold your tongue, my darling son, your tears do grieve me

sore;

I fear he has been murdered in the fair of Turloughmore.

Come, all you tender Christians, I hope you will draw near;

It's of this dreadful murder I mean to let you hear,

Concerning those poor people whose loss we do deplore

(The Lord have mercy on their souls) that died at Turloughmore.

It is on the First of August, the truth I will declare,
Those people they assembled that day all at the fair;
But little was their notion what evil was in store,
All by the bloody Peelers at the fair of Turloughmore.

Were you to see that dreadful sight 'twould grieve your heart, I

know,

To see the comely women and the men all lying low;

God help their tender parents, they will never see them more,
For cruel was their murder at the fair of Turloughmore.

It's for that base bloodthirsty crew, remark the word I say,
The Lord He will reward them against the judgment-day ;
The blood they have taken innocent, for it they'll suffer sore,
And the treatment that they gave to us that day at Turloughmore.

The morning of their trial as they stood up in the dock, The words they spoke were feeling, the people round them flock : 'I tell you, Judge and Jury, the truth I will declare,

It was Brew that ordered us to fire that evening at the fair.'

Now to conclude and finish this sad and doleful fray,

I hope their souls are happy against the judgment-day;

It was little time they got, we know, when they fell like new-mowed hay,

May the Lord have mercy on their souls against the judgmentday.

THE LAMENTATION OF HUGH REYNOLDS

A STREET-BALLAD

I copied this ballad from a broad-sheet in the collection of Mr. Davis; but could learn nothing of its date, or the circumstances connected with it. It is clearly modern, however, and founded on the story of an abduction, which terminated differently from the majority of these adventures. The popular sympathy in such cases is generally in favour of the gallant, the impression being that an abduction is never attempted without at least a tacit consent on the part of the girl. Whenever she appears as a willing witness for the prosecution it is said she has been tampered with by her friends, and public indignation falls upon the wrong object. The 'Lamentation' was probably written for or by the ballad-singers; but it is the best of its bad class.

The student would do well to compare it with the other street-ballads in the collection; and with the simple old traditional ballads, such as Shule Aroon' and Peggy Bawn,' that he may discover, if possible, where the charm lies that recommends strains so rude and naked to the most cultivated minds. These ballads have done what the songs of our greatest lyrical poets have not

done - delighted both the educated and the ignorant. Whoever hopes for an equally large and contrasted audience must catch their simplicity, directness, and force, or whatever else constitutes their peculiar attraction. - Note by Sir Charles Gavan Duffy, Ball.d Poetry of Ireland.

My name it is Hugh Reynolds, I come of honest parents;
Near Cavan I was born, as plainly you may see;

By loving of a maid, one Catherine MacCabe,

My life has been betrayed; she's a dear maid to me.1

The country were bewailing my doleful situation,

But still I'd expectation this maid would set me free;
But, oh! she was ungrateful, her parents proved deceitful,
And though I loved her faithful, she's a dear maid to me.

Young men and tender maidens, throughout this Irish nation,
Who hear my lamentation, I hope you'll pray for me;
The truth I will unfold, that my precious blood she sold,
In the grave I must lie cold; she's a dear maid to me.

For now my glass is run, and the hour it is come,

And I must die for love and the height of loyalty:

I thought it was no harm to embrace her in my arms,

Or take her from her parents; but she's a dear maid to me.

Adieu, my loving father, and you, my tender mother,
Farewell, my dearest brother, who has suffered sore for me;
With irons I'm surrounded, in grief I lie confounded,

By perjury unbounded! she's a dear maid to me.

Now, I can say no more; to the Law-board? I must go, There to take the last farewell of my friends and counterie ; May the angels, shining bright, receive my soul this night, And convey me into heaven to the blessed Trinity.

A dear maid to me.' An Irish idiom; meaning, not that she was much beloved by him, but that his love for her brought a heavy penalty with it-cost him dearly. Observe the effect of this idiom at the close of the second verse.

2 Gallows.

WILLY REILLY

Willy Reilly was the first ballad I ever heard recited, and it made a painfully vivid impression on my mind. I have never forgotten the smallest incident of it. The story on which it is founded happened some sixty years ago; and as the lover was a young Catholic farmer, and the lady's family of high Orange principles, it got a party character, which, no doubt, contributed to its great popularity. There is no family under the rank of gentry, in the inland counties of Ulster, where it is not familiarly known. Nurses and sempstresses, the honorary guardians of national songs and legends, have taken it into special favour, and preserved its popularity.-Note by Sir Charles Gavan Duffy, Ballad Poetry of Ireland,

'OH! rise up, Willy Reilly, and come along with me,
I mean for to go with you and leave this counterie,
To leave my father's dwelling, his houses and free land ;'
And away goes Willy Reilly and his dear Coolen Ban

They go by hills and mountains, and by yon lonesome plain,
Through shady groves and valleys, all dangers to refrain ;
But her father followed after with a well-armed band,
And taken was poor Reilly and his dear Coolen Ban.

It's home then she was taken, and in her closet bound ;
Poor Reilly all in Sligo jail lay on the stony ground,
Till at the bar of justice, before the Judge he'd stand,
For nothing but the stealing of his dear Coolen Ban.

Now in the cold, cold iron my hands and feet are bound,

I'm handcuffed like a murderer, and tied unto the ground.
But all the toil and slavery I'm willing for to stand,
Still hoping to be succoured by my dear Coolen Ban?

The jailor's son to Reilly goes, and thus to him did say:
Oh! get up, Willy Reilly, you must appear this day,
For great Squire Foillard's anger you never can withstand,
I'm afeer'd you'll suffer sorely for your dear Coolen Ban

'This is the news, young Reilly, last night that I did hear :
The lady's oath will hang you or else will set you clear.'
If that be so,' says Reilly, her pleasure I will stand,
Still hoping to be succoured by my dear Coolen Ban?

Now Willy's drest from top to toe all in a suit of green,
His hair hangs o'er his shoulders most glorious to be seen;
He's tall and straight, and comely as any could be found;
He's fit for Foillard's daughter, was she heiress to a crown.

The Judge he said: 'This lady being in her tender youth,
If Reilly has deluded her she will declare the truth.'
Then, like a moving beauty bright, before him she did stand,
'You're welcome there, my heart's delight and dear Coolen Ban

'Oh, gentlemen,' Squire Foillard said, 'with pity look on me,
This villain came amongst us to disgrace our family,
And by his base contrivances this villainy was planned ;
If I don't get satisfaction I'll quit this Irish land.'

The lady with a tear began, and thus replied she
'The fault is none of Reilly's, the blame lies all on me,

I forced him for to leave his place and come along with me;

I loved him out of measure, which wrought our destiny.'

Out bespoke the noble Fox,' at the table he stood by :

'Oh, gentlemen, consider on this extremity;

To hang a man for love is a murder, you may see:

So spare the life of Reilly, let him leave this counterie.'

'Good my lord, he stole from her her diamonds and her rings,
Gold watch and silver buckles, and many precious things,
Which cost me in bright guineas more than five hundred pounds,
I'll have the life of Reilly should I lose ten thousand pounds.'

'Good my lord, I gave them him as tokens of true love,
And when we are a-parting I will them all remove ;
If you have got them, Reilly, pray send them home to me.'
'I will, my loving lady, with many thanks to thee.'

There is a ring among them I allow yourself to wear,
With thirty locket diamonds well set in silver fair,
And as a true-love token wear it on your right hand,
That you'll think on my poor broken heart when you're in foreign
land.'

The prisoner's counsel, afterwards a judge.