W^' I
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 €€ 
 
 MMmm timmn 
 
 S5 
 
 ETC. 
 
 FITZ-ER I N 
 
 DIJBLTN : 
 GEORGE HERBERT, 117, GRAFTON-STREET. 
 
 18G2.
 
 G. DROUGHT PRLSTKK, BACHELOB's-WALK.
 
 
 INSCRIBED 
 TO HIS EXCELLENCY 
 
 EIGHT HON. THE EARL OF CARLISLE, 
 
 (>;j8yGy
 
 ©r^TEHTS 
 
 a 
 
 -♦- 
 
 Page 
 
 Dedicatory Lines . 7 
 
 MucRoss Abbey 9 
 
 TORC 11 
 
 Eoss Castle 13 
 
 Glexaa 16 
 
 TOMIES . . 18 
 
 The Eagle's Nest 21 
 
 Derrycunnihy 23 
 
 Agiiadoe 25 
 
 Macgii.licuddy's Reeks 27 
 
 Blackwater-Bridge 30 
 
 Lough Brin ; or, the Mountain Cuckoo ... 31 
 Lough Cuillin, Glanbegh, Co. Kerry . . . .34 
 
 Eossbegh — A Farewell, 36 
 
 Beaufort, Co. Kerry 38 
 
 Elegy on Ganzey, the Celebrated Killarney Piper 42 
 
 The Twelve Score Gentlemen 45 
 
 L'Arriere t . 48
 
 DEDICATORY LINES 
 
 TO 
 
 EIGHT HON. THE EAIIL OF CARLISLE, 
 
 i^orb ^icntenant of Irrianb, 
 
 ETC. ETC., 
 ON HIS LATE VISIT TO KILLARNEY. 
 
 ?AIN would a Kerry Muse with welcome greet 
 
 Viceregal Visitor in artless strain : 
 Cead milefailte ! happy to repeat, 
 
 Thrice welcome to the banks of fair Lough Lane ! 
 
 'O" 
 
 Welcome to Innisfallen's holy Isle ! 
 
 To Ross, that seems the very land of Faery ; 
 To " Mncross," and her abbey's hoary pile, 
 
 And stately echo-haunted " Eagle's Eyry." 
 
 A welcome to " Glenaa's " sequester'd cove. 
 
 The " Meeting of the Waters " — Scott's delight- 
 To forest-clothed " Tore," that soars above 
 His lake and famed cascade in lordly might. 
 
 To Derrycunnihy, where late our Queen 
 
 On Nature's charms enjoy'd so rich a treat : 
 
 Whence the broad-shoulder'd giant " Reeks " are seen, 
 The lone " Black Valley " sleeping at their feet.
 
 Viii DEDICATORY LINES. 
 
 Welcome to "Beaufort Bridge," and "Banks of Laune " — 
 Few fairer scenes upon Killarney's map — 
 
 And to " Dunloe," of picturesque renown, 
 And to the rugged grandeur of " the Gap." 
 
 May Heaven propitious with its sunniest smiles, 
 Our Viceroy welcome cnxising o'er the lake ; 
 
 And oft may Echo, with her airy wiles, 
 
 That welcome waft to garrulous Paddy Blake. 
 
 Fain would I urge a Poet's privilege — 
 If Poet's name I may presume to use — 
 
 And hope a ray of sunny patronage 
 
 May smile propitious on my rustic Muse. 
 
 That to a Carlisle's eye she may submit 
 
 " Killarney Sketches," drawn from time to time 
 
 From scenes of prominent beauty exquisite, 
 And wedded here to Spenser's stately rhyme. 
 See to what daring heights a Mountain Muse may climb. 
 
 Jfit^-drrin.
 
 KaiEBJip $rMm 
 
 Jfirst SIutrFj. 
 
 MTICROSS ABBEY. 
 
 l^Inscribed to Mrs, Herbert.'] 
 
 |N hallow'd theme my muse would fain embark ; 
 ^ On hallow'd ground fain would I venture now. 
 
 Hallow'd in distant age, devout, tho' dark, 
 By pray'r and incense, and the holy vow, 
 And wealth bequeath'd, the altar to endow. 
 
 Hallow'd, moreover, as the resting-place 
 Of many generations doom'd to bow 
 
 Beneath the common lot of Adam's race. 
 
 The dust of centuries within that narrow space ; 
 
 And rival chiefs and clans, now reconcil'd in death's embrace. 
 
 If aught of earthly aid could more enhance 
 
 The sanctity of consecrated aisle ; 
 If aught could deepen the sepulchral trance 
 
 Of those reposing in thy hoary pile. 
 
 Old In-elagh !* their peaceful domicile. 
 Much is there here such sanctities to aid, 
 
 Romantic site — thy solemn gothic style ; 
 Thy cloister'd Yew's o'ercanopying shade. 
 And cloister walks and aisle, for lone devotion made, 
 And mould'ring monuments by " dim religious light " 
 surveyed. 
 
 • Ancient name of the Abbey.
 
 10 KILLAENEY SKETCHES. 
 
 How sweetly thy stone-shafted window peeps, 
 
 Half hid within its dim, umbrageous bow'r 
 Of old Ancestral Beech that croAvn the steeps. 
 
 And shield the glade below from noontide hour. 
 
 And lo ! yon grey time-mellow'd Abbey tow'r ! 
 From whence of yore the toll of Vesper beU 
 
 Was heard across the lake with soothing pow'r. 
 At times the cadence of the passing knell 
 Fell on the sadden'd ear with slow, monotonous swell. 
 To lull some Pilgrim to his rest within the narrow cell. 
 
 Of yon grey Abbey, and its hallow'd ground, 
 
 Thy Mucross, Herbert ! may be justly proud ; 
 It sheds such hallowing gi-ace on all around, 
 
 And peaceful thoughts upon the mourning crowd ; 
 
 And pious words are dropt, more deep than loud. 
 Sure ne'er was gem in richer setting laid. 
 
 Nor e'er has ruin worn more fitting shroud, 
 Than here, in calm and solemn grace an-ay'd, 
 Where mingle mountain, lake, and lawn, and sylvan glade; 
 Fair mansion lending to the whole chaste Architecture's aid. 
 
 How sweet 'tis here to choose the devious walk, 
 Where we can list the Woodquest as he coos. 
 
 And gushing sound of water from the rock ; 
 And follow fancy's lead where Natui'e woos, 
 And com't mayhap in still retreat the Muse, 
 
 To aid me in the praise of some lone glen. 
 Or should a Herbert's gi-aphic pencil choose 
 
 To sketch fair scenes that baffle Poet's pen, 
 
 A glimpse of yon gi'ey ruin now within our ken. 
 
 Then muse on that enduring shrine revealed to faithful men.
 
 KILLARNEY SKETCHES. 
 
 11 
 
 S^tonb Sh^tx;Ij. 
 
 TORC. 
 
 \_Inscribed to Miss Herbert.} 
 
 SCENES there are, and seasons, when, if atight 
 ^ Of gentler Christian feeling stir within, 
 A respite from the world is keenly sought — 
 From busy world or gay ; alike by sin 
 Tarnish'd — and such respite then we win. 
 Then brightens most oui- faith, then visions rise 
 Of other heavens and earth — then we begin 
 A cheering Pisgah \Tiew to realize 
 Of that fair Promised Land that waits the good and wise. 
 
 Such was the scene and hour, enchanting Tore ! 
 
 As lately by thy placid lake I stray'd ; 
 What time the Curfew toU'd a truce to work, 
 
 Its cadence lent a solemnizing aid. 
 
 I view'd thy tow'ring Pyi-amid of shade, 
 That cast upon thy lake an Ebon hue ; 
 
 While from the neighbouring gorge thy famed Cascade 
 Heard raving in the stillness, seem'd to woo 
 My heart to absent friends, and scenes where friendship 
 grew.
 
 12 KILLARNEY SKETCHES. 
 
 The setting sun, behind the Eagle's eyrie, 
 Tinging the outline with its living gold ; 
 
 And Mucross' bristling shore, where Nymph or Fairy 
 In sweet secluded creek her court might hold, 
 Shut in by cliffs of most fantastic mould. 
 
 " The Lodge " reposing here on velvet lawn ; 
 And there the rocky shelf projecting bold. 
 
 Fit station, where the timid Hind and Fawn 
 
 Inhale the evening breeze from sylvan covert di'awn. 
 
 Yes, gentle are the inmates of thy groves, 
 
 Tore ! once haunted by the Wolf and Boar ; * 
 Here with her Fawn now safe the red Deer roves. 
 At times thy tide is fuiTOw'd by the oar 
 That wafts the antler'd Captive to thy shore. 
 There, he enlarg'd, forgets th' alarming strains 
 
 That rous'd him once — the chase, the Canine roar. 
 Rest thus, my soul ! from worldly cares and pains, 
 By truth set free from sin, and fatal error's chains, 
 To dwell in hope amid those scenes where peace for ever 
 reigns. 
 
 * Tore and Mucross, names implying either the haunts of the Wild 
 Boar, or the briitliug character of the shore and mountain.
 
 KILLARNEY SKETCHES. 13 
 
 Cljrrtr Slultlj. 
 
 ROSS CASTLE. 
 [^Inscribed to The 0'' Donoghue of the Glens^ 
 
 I AIL, relic of a wild barbarian time ! 
 '' ^Yheu might was right, each tow'r an armed post : 
 When title spread its scutcheon over crime — 
 
 The chieftain's motto, " Strong hand uppermost." 
 " Aboo !" the war-cry, shouted by a host 
 Of Kerns rushing to some Clannish fray. 
 
 Next neighbour the worst friend — suspected most — 
 Plunder their pay, they snatch'd the nearest prey. 
 'Twixt friend and foe, I ween, small diflference made 
 they. 
 
 Here the O'Donoghue, to fancy's eye, 
 
 Pacing his watch-tow'r, might have proudly view'd 
 His war-steeds foaming white, careering high, 
 
 Charge o'er the troubled waters of the flood, 
 
 'Gainst the defiant cliffs in hostile mood. 
 And as he felt the Avind-borne billow spray, 
 
 Perchance within him stirr'd a spirit rude, 
 To clench his sword, and with a Chieftain's sway, 
 His Tocsin rang to ears right eager for the fray,.
 
 14 KILLARNEY SKETCHES. 
 
 At Other times, wbeu calm as infant's sleep, 
 The lake reposed upon its pebbly strand ; 
 
 When islet, wooded knoll, and naked steep 
 Lay mirror'd there, and gentle breezes faun'd 
 His swarthy visage with an influence bland. 
 
 Then might, perhaps, " the Abbey's" vesper bell, 
 Wafted from Innisfallen's holy land, 
 
 Fall on O'Donoghue's ear with solemn swell. 
 
 And the bold Chieftain soothe, as 'twere some holy 
 spell. 
 
 A change, Ross, o'er thy dismantled Castle 
 Has come, thine ivied tow'r, and levell'd moat. 
 
 No more thou echoest to din of wassail, 
 
 But sportive challenge of some passing boat, 
 When " Paddy Blake " repeats his task by rote ; 
 
 Or where Spillane at quiet evening hears 
 Thy walls responding to his bugle-note. 
 
 Floating in mellow tone to distant eai'S, 
 
 Across the charmed lake, like music of the spheres. 
 
 Yes, changed thou art ! a change how truly bless'd ! 
 
 Once the stronghold of feudal sway and hate. 
 A barrack next, to queU Rebellion's crest ; 
 
 But now sm-viving to a happier fate. 
 
 The ivied emblem of more peaceful state — 
 A goodly landscape's stately ornament ; 
 
 No Kern on tow'r — no Sentinel at gate. 
 We mount the stau-s, and from thy battlement 
 Gaze long on scenes of wood and water richly blent.
 
 KILLARNEY SKETCHES. 15 
 
 Whether afar we view thy sombre pile, 
 
 Emerging from its wilderness of shade ; 
 Or view thee nearer from thine own sweet Isle, 
 
 From teiTaced height, or some sequester'd glade, 
 
 Majestically stern thou art — and made 
 More striking still, contrasted with a scene 
 
 Where Taste to Natm-e lends her magic aid. 
 Fair labyrinth of parterre and sylvan screen. 
 Lawns, vistas, mazy walks, with shadowy glades between. 
 
 Oft to that Fauy-land have I repaii-'d, 
 Communing with congenial bosom friend 
 
 (Such scenic joys are doubled, being shared) ; 
 And sweet it was all deviously to wend. 
 And mark the varied chai-ms there seen to blend. 
 
 Now scaling mount whence Panoramic views 
 Of mountain, forest, isle and lake extend ; 
 
 And then descending where dark vista woos ; 
 
 Glimpses and quiet haunts of Nature to peruse, 
 
 And talk of Nature's God, and on high themes to muse.
 
 16 KILLARXEY SKETCHES. 
 
 ^tfcurilj ^kcttlj. 
 
 GLENAA. 
 l_Incribed to Viscountess Castlerosse.'\ 
 
 LENAA ! thy very name would tempt the Muse 
 
 Romantic, to explore thy secret haunts — 
 It smacks of glens and dells, where Woodquest coos, 
 
 The Throstle carols, and the Blackbh-d chants. 
 Where, when the Ox on lowland pasture pants. 
 The Stag is wont his noontide thirst to slake 
 Hard by cascade, where grow all ferny plants, 
 Or scares the Wild-duck from their sedgy brake,* 
 While stalking into some lone inlet of the Lake. 
 
 And never sure did natm-e's Pilgi-im find 
 A meeter shrine whereat he might adore ; 
 
 No meeter shrine, where all appears enshrin'd 
 Of Nature's charms, whereon he loves to pore — 
 The babbling brooklet muraiuring on the shore, 
 
 The gently sloping lawn of velvet sward. 
 
 The shadowy glade, the mountain hanging o'er 
 
 *' My Lady's Lodge," that seems the scene to guard. 
 
 Lest by a step profane that quiet should be marr'd. 
 
 * Idea borrowed from Landseer's picture of " The Saactuarj."
 
 KILLAUNEY SKETCHES. 17 
 
 Thy sylvan charms, Glenaa ! quite "won the heart 
 
 Of Royal Alice, wooing her to stray ; 
 And, Wood-nymph for the nonce, with joy to dart 
 
 Into thy depths, almost to lose her way — 
 
 Her seat deserted at the banquet-tray. 
 A child of nature, buoyant, fancy-free. 
 
 Hoping, mayhap, to find some Fawns at play. 
 Or Echo's deep-indented nook to see. 
 Or search wee Ferns, that hard by trickling rills may be. 
 
 Here silence reigns, or broken by sucli sound 
 As makes the silence still more deeply felt. 
 
 Well might we think, in stillness so profound. 
 Here could Egeria at her fount have dwelt, 
 And to her Numa words of wisdom dealt ; 
 
 And here, in later days, the Anchorite 
 In undisturb'd devotion might have knelt : 
 
 And now such deep repose may well invite 
 
 To Fancy's faiiy di-eams some contemplative Wight. 
 
 The mountain, perpendicularly steep, 
 
 Leaves the low vale, to cleave the midway air ; 
 
 Beneath its umbrage seems the dale to sleep ; 
 The cliffs above a hanging forest wear, 
 Wherein the Hind securely seeks her lair. 
 
 A sylvan Amphitheatre it seems — 
 The Rowan, Arbutus, and Holly, there 
 
 Their berries mingle in the sunny gleams ; 
 
 While from the covert sounds the voice of birds andstreams: 
 
 Such woodland strains a hymn of praise the pious Pilgrim 
 deems. 
 
 B
 
 18 KILLARNEY SKETCHES. 
 
 J^lftfj Slutrlj. 
 
 TOMIES. 
 
 [Inscribed to Mrs. Maurice O^Connell, Lakeview.'} 
 
 ^0 forest-ramble wonld I now invite 
 * My Lucy, to the forest spring and glade ; 
 Within the sylvan depths the garish light 
 And heat of summer noon we shall evade. 
 I bring the pen, bring thou the pencil's aid ; 
 Mount Sybil thou, I Pegasus bestride — 
 A Pegasus my Cob may weU be said ; 
 For thoughts mount to my bi'ain, as on I ride, 
 And ramble into rhyme, and into metre glide 
 
 Thanks to our stars ! such forest-scenes are near, 
 Within the compass of an hour's ride — 
 
 Lo ! Tomies' wood-gu-t base, descending sheer 
 
 To the Lake's margin ! where, like conscious bride, 
 The silvery Bh'ch is mirror'd in the tide. 
 
 The strand a uaiTOw bridle-track betrays. 
 
 Save where, by bluff projecting, turned aside, 
 
 It leads us thro' the forest's tangled ways. 
 
 Where Hazel, Oak, and Holly form a pleasant maze.
 
 KILLARNEY SKETCHES. 19 
 
 Nor are we wandering left without a guide — 
 Our ear attracted by the rumbling sound 
 
 Of waters, louder as we onward ride, 
 
 Until the foliage seems to quiver round — 
 'Tis the " O'Sullivan Cascade " renown'd. 
 
 And as we follow on, the startled Hare 
 
 Scuds down the glade — across it nimbly bound 
 
 The Hind and Fawn, to seek their neighb'ring lair, 
 
 And brushing thro' the tangled copse, tiie Cusliat 
 scare. 
 
 And now have we approach'd the vocal spot 
 
 Whence all this hubbub of the wood proceeds ; 
 Still, tho' it stuns the ear, we see it not, 
 
 So deep the gorge thro' which the ton-ent speeds. 
 
 Here let us then dismount, and tie our steeds. 
 And trace afoot our now precipitous path ! 
 
 Which to the lowest pool our footsteps leads. 
 Where Naiads seem to have prepared a bath 
 For river God fatigu'd by elemental wrath. 
 
 Now, Lucy, now, thy graphic pencil fetch ; 
 
 Yon Cascade to depict my pen must fail — 
 The varied fall invites the varying sketch — 
 
 lliere a continuous sheet of foam we hail, 
 
 Like Benshee's streaming hair, and Benshee's w ; 
 Here writhes the flood, like Martyi- on the rack, 
 
 Till in calm pool received, and shelter'd dell, 
 It rests at length — thus looks the ]\Iartyr ])ack. 
 From Heav'uly resting-place, upon his weary track. 
 
 ;;il
 
 20 KILLARNEY SKETCHES. 
 
 What blended traits are here! — the soft, the stern. 
 
 The green and grey, the purple and the dark ; 
 How gracefully the Lichens, ]\Ioss, and Fern, 
 
 Fringe and adorn yon clitf so bold and stark ! 
 
 And see yon di'ooping Birch* of silveiy bark, 
 Whose slender twigs down to the torrent bend, 
 
 Like Wood-nymph weeping, if she chance to see 
 Some wilder'd Fawn, by clifis shut in and penn'd. 
 Hard by her trickling fount its gentle life-breath spend. 
 
 And like that Fawn's the Minstrel's peaceful end. 
 
 Were he allow'd to choose his way of death, 
 Sooth'd by the tending of some gentle friend, . 
 
 By " living waters," and the Spirit's breath ; 
 Loving the works of God — the purple heath, 
 The forest, lake, cascade, the mountain-crest. 
 
 And all that forms fair Nature's sylvan wreath ; 
 Still more, the Word of God — scenes far more bless'd 
 He fondly hopes may be his place of future rest. 
 
 The Venus of the grove. 
 
 I
 
 KILLARNEY SKETCHES. 
 
 21 
 
 xxil^ Slutcfj. 
 
 THE EAGLE'S NEST. 
 \_Inscribed to Mrs. Newman, Dromore, Mallow,'] 
 
 )0W, boatman, row — speed on our pleasure skift'; 
 * So, there ! Now rest the oar, and let us float 
 Calmly awhile afore yon tow'i'ing cliff, 
 
 That echoes to the Eagle's screaming note. 
 
 Now wake, Spillane ! thy bugle's brazen throat. 
 To rouse the Nymph that sleeps in yonder dell. 
 
 And let her waft thy strains to cliffs remote, 
 To Oread sisters, lodged in hollow cell, 
 AYho may prolong such notes on sweet J^lolian shell. 
 
 Oh, Bugler ! breathe again that plaintive strain, 
 
 That chants " Kate Kearney's " dimples and black 
 eyes. 
 
 With gentle sighing of some hopeful Swain. 
 Distant its echoes fade, and upward rise. 
 Floating on air, and mingling with the skies. 
 
 Hai-k ! Crom-y-Gloun takes up the tuneful theme, 
 And hoUow-bosom'd Caim-a-dubh replies. 
 
 While on yon crag the Eagle sooth'd would seem, 
 
 To smooth his ruffled plume, and hush his Avonted s^cream. 
 
 And the awakcu'd Stag resumes his broken mid-day dream.
 
 22 KILLARNEY SKETCHES. 
 
 As Classic legends tell, the ray of Morn 
 
 Could melody extract from Memnon's stone ; 
 E'en so yon crags, by tempest bleach'd and worn, 
 
 Respond to Music's touch, and softly own 
 
 The inspiring magic of the bugle-tone. 
 And hark ! what echoes now salute our ears, 
 
 Doubling ! re-doubling ! — now like dying moan. 
 And now a thrill of swelling music cheers : 
 In that aerial strain our charmed fancy hears 
 A choir of fairy-land, or else the music of the spheres. 
 
 Pleasant on sylvan lawn of Flesk to stand, 
 When blythe Aurora blushes in the east, 
 And see yon echoing Eagle Cliff expand 
 To morning-ray its tempest-riven breast. 
 And smooth in sunny smiles its rugged crest ; 
 As some brave Christian knight who long has borne 
 
 The brunt of war, as Honour's scars attest. 
 And long responded to the martial Horn, 
 Kow calmly rests in peace, midst honours meekly worn, 
 While the bright beams of righteousness his aged brow 
 adorn.
 
 KILLARNEY SKETCHES. 
 
 23 
 
 S-etrcntlj ^lutclj. 
 
 DEERYCTJNNIHY. 
 
 [Inscribed to H.R.H. the Prince of Wales.'] 
 
 i|OW " the Long Range " is pass'd, with all its bending ; 
 ^ " O'Donoghue's Leap," and Colman's Giant Stride ; 
 The Upper Lake is now its wild charms lending ; 
 And a sweet bay invites onr oar aside, 
 Where Derrycunnihy contracts its tide. 
 Mooring our boat, now let us disembark. 
 
 Where thy once hospitable cottage, Hyde, 
 On verdant knoll and shrubby lawn we mark — • 
 Bright sunny spot, amidst a waving forest dark. 
 
 Into these sylvan haunts now let us dive. 
 And follow up this fretful river's course. 
 
 How tremulous the foliage seems to shrive 
 It waters dark — and hark ! that music hoarse, 
 And louder growing, as its boisterous source 
 
 We near approach. Lo ! through the branches gleaming, 
 A cataract rushing down with frantic force ! 
 
 Like some wild Horse that gallops headlong, seeming 
 To mock restraint, its flanks and nostrils hotly steaming, 
 And its foam-spatter'd mane upon the storm all wildly 
 streaming.
 
 24 KILLARNET SKETCHES. 
 
 Pleasant, when berries fair the woods adorn, 
 Crimson'd by Autumn's pencil dipt in dew, 
 
 On Holly, Rowan-tree, wild Cherry, Thorn, 
 Arbutus, gay with cluster'ed blossoms, too — 
 How pleasant then these scenes to wander thro' ! 
 
 Oft plucking the wild fruitage of the wood. 
 
 While, thro' the opening trees, break on our view 
 
 The Reeks and Sliabh Caillach,* which seem to brood 
 In Alpine majesty, and yet in sullen mood, 
 
 O'er Coom-a-dubh's dark valley deep and dusky solitude. 
 
 Proud, Denycunnihy, thou well may'st be, 
 
 That thou didst lately Regal Guest beguile 
 With the wild charms of thy scenery — 
 
 Cliif, cataract, forest, mountain-range, and isle. 
 
 Pilgrim of nature, she, who, wont to smile 
 On brilliant courtly circle, and to view 
 
 All that fine art achieves in richest style. 
 Still charming Nature fondly can pursue 
 To her remotest haunts, her graces there to woo. 
 Pencil in hand, with eye and heart to Nature ever tnie. 
 
 * Hag's Jaw Mountain.
 
 KILLARNEY SKETCHES. 25 
 
 ^r^Ijtlj Sluklj. 
 
 AGHADOE. 
 
 llnscribed to Lady Headley.'] 
 
 I AIL, Aghadoe ! upon thy simuy slope 
 * How charmingly things old and new are traced, 
 Some savouring of ancient faith and hope, 
 
 And some bespeaking modern grace and taste. 
 Lo ! yonder Pile, in ivy shroud embraced, 
 How venerably it sunnounts the height ; 
 
 Its walls, tho' now by reckless Time laid waste, 
 Once witness'd Choral chant and holy rite. 
 When Erin, " Isle of Saints," difFus'd the Gospel light, 
 Too soon, alas ! in Danish havoc queuch'd and Error's 
 night. 
 
 In fresher, softer chaniis, yon hilly range 
 
 Behold array'd ! There spreads the sylvan screen, 
 The rose-deck'd Cot beneath, and well-stored Grange, 
 
 And blushing Orchards sweetly grace the scene ; 
 
 While on its velvet sward of living green 
 The lordly mansion stands ! — a Tudor pile. 
 
 Fair work of one who mingled well the mien 
 Of Noble with a kindness free from guile ; 
 His Tenantry, the Poor, the Minstrel, all, the while 
 Basking 'neath the influence of Headley's sunny smile.
 
 26 EILLARNEY SKETCHES. 
 
 Nor while he built his own did he neglect 
 
 A house for God ! Behold yon Temple there, 
 
 Comely and chaste, bespeaks the high respect 
 He felt for sacred things, his wish to share 
 The congi-egated voice of praise and prayer. 
 
 He deem'd he could not honour more the day 
 When first our Saviour breath'd our grosser air, 
 
 Than at that Saviour's shrine his alms to lay. 
 
 The best of Landlords he — ah ! happy they [sway ! 
 
 That lived beneath such landlord's kind and Patriarchal 
 
 Too soon remov'd ! — not for himself too soon, 
 In spirit ripe for Heav'n, tho' not in years ; 
 
 For scarcely had he pass'd life's vigorous Noon, 
 For others far too short, Fate's ruthless shears 
 Cut his bright thread of life — the Tenants' teai-s, 
 
 The poor man's sighs, embalm the honour'd dead ; 
 Sincere the Keening dirge that smote the ears 
 
 When he was carried to his narrow bed. 
 
 Yet one survives to dry the tears of mourning shed — 
 
 A Mother to his Tenants, and in his bright path to tread. 
 
 Long may'st thou, noble Lady, long enjoy 
 
 The means and luxury of doing good. 
 Thy Tenants to befriend, the Poor t' employ — 
 
 The bounteous Almoner of clothes and food. 
 
 Boon Nature has adorn'd in partial mood 
 Thine Aghadoe, with scenes sublime and fair, 
 
 WTiere charms combine of mountain, water, wood. 
 Here sternly soar the Reeks, so sharp and bare, 
 While Ross and Mucross spread their milder charms there ; 
 May grace thy soul for brighter scenes and better things 
 prepare.
 
 KILLAKKEY SKETCHES, 27 
 
 Stnt^ Slutclj. 
 
 MACGILLICUDDY'S REEKS. 
 [Inscribed to The Mdcgillicuddy of the Rteks.'\ 
 
 ^HE Bard may deem it no mean privilege 
 
 Within the shadow of " the Keeks " to dwell, 
 
 And daily gaze upon yon tow'ring ridge ; 
 Or fancy-free, or bound by fancy's spell, 
 And trace their fellow-Titan's conic swell, 
 
 Huge Garrane-Tuahal, with his cluster'd peaks, 
 And rifted sides, where deep-worn guUys tell 
 
 Of wintry Cataracts, like furrow'd streaks, 
 
 Traced by those "iron tears that roll down Pluto's 
 cheeks." 
 
 When erst that cone Ave scaled yon summer morn, 
 
 Around, beneath, what visions did we note, 
 Ev'n to the coast, by many an inlet worn, 
 
 To Skellig's ocean Pyramid remote. 
 
 Beneath us surging cliffs, where scarce the Goat 
 Could climb ; and sleeping in the dusky dell 
 
 The tarn— and hark ! the bugle's brazen throat 
 Startled lone Echo in her mountain cell ; 
 Her voice prolong'd in many a dying fall and swell.
 
 28 KILLARNEY SKETCHES. 
 
 Well pleas'd, ye Reeks ! I've viewed your Giant forms, 
 
 While mourning gales of autumn were prevailing — 
 The prelude-notes to coming winter's storms — 
 
 Athwart your breast the billowy vapours sailing ; 
 
 At times, some peak or salient crag unveiling ; 
 While fitful gusts from out the " Hag's Wild Glen," 
 
 Careering came, in dirge-like cadence wailing, 
 As if some wretch, inveigled to her den, 
 Were moaning all in vain to be released again. 
 
 And when the spirit of the winter night 
 
 Has wrapt yon mountain group in Ermine dress ; 
 
 And sunbeams then, with ^Vlorn's returning light, 
 Play on the snowy Alpine wilderness, 
 I think such scene an emblem may express 
 
 How much of pure, and brilliant, and sublime, 
 In higher spheres awaits our souls to bless, 
 
 Leading the mind devout e'en now to climb 
 
 The Pisgah Mount, and look beyond the bounds of Time. 
 
 In mountain range the eye a semblance seeks ; 
 
 And here we trace a Coronet express'd 
 In jagged summit of yon clustering peaks ; 
 
 To Fancy's eye sufficient to suggest 
 
 Device Heraldic, most befitting Crest* 
 To Macgillicuddy's old time-honour'd name — 
 
 The Reeks fi*om olden time by them possess'd. 
 From the O'Sullivan that portion came ; 
 A goodly appenage,t a younger brother's claim. 
 
 * The Reeks form the IMacgillicuildy Crest, 
 t " Mac Giilla Coda " means " Son of the youth that got a portion."
 
 KILLARNEY SKETCHES. 29 
 
 The Bard might wish — a wish however fond — 
 The shadow of these " everlasting hills " 
 
 Might rest upon his grave when, far beyond 
 This checquer'd scene of earthly joys and ills, 
 This aguish life, that warms, by turns, and chills, 
 
 His spirit mounts — e'en now there seem to loom 
 (Such hope fond musing fancy oft instills) — 
 
 Killarney scenes more ftiir beyond the Tomb, 
 
 Where we, with those we love, may share an Eden's bloom.
 
 30 KILLARNEY SKETCHES. 
 
 Ccnlb ^Iiettlr. 
 
 ^ 
 
 B LA CKWATER -BRIDGE. 
 
 \_Inscribed to Mrs. Mahony, Dromore Castle.'] 
 
 pOMANTIC Pile! the pencil's favourite theme, 
 ' ^ And now wayfaring Poet's haunt — his dream 
 From earliest days. Lo ! with what aiiy grace 
 Spring thy two arches from their rocky base ; 
 Fringed by the mountain Ash, the Oak, and Larch. "\ 
 I stand below, and gain thro' one twin arch r 
 
 A vista view — Black Avon's headlong march, 
 Now lash'd in whirlpool and wild cascade ; 
 Now calmly mirroring the impending shade, 
 'Till, as it nears me, more and more pent in 
 By mural cliffs, it chafes with stunning din ; 
 Siioots through one arch, lashing with baffled rage 
 The base of sister arch — the rocky stage 
 Whereon I take my station, and serene, 
 Can look upon the torrent's threatening mien ; 
 Tho' peril seem so near, yet, feeling safe. 
 Can smile to see the cauldi'on boil and chafe ; 
 'Till tidal here, the waters find a rest 
 In gentle heavings of old Ocean's breast. 
 Tranquil, land-lock'd in sylvan creek, as sweet 
 As ever might the war-woni Veteran greet. 
 With promise of hard-earn'd repose, and calm retreat
 
 KILLARNEY SKETCHES. 31 
 
 €kbtnllj Slictrlj. 
 
 LOUGH BRIN; OR, THE MOUNTAIN-CUCKOO. 
 
 [Inscribed to Mrs. Hamillon Thompson, Beaumont, Curk.l 
 
 MARK to the Cuckoo's note ! 
 " " From out yon mountain-hollow brown ; 
 It seems on air-wove wing to float, 
 Like the light thistle-down. 
 
 'Tis stillness all around, 
 
 Save that from vale, streteh'd out below, 
 Comes up a sullen plashy sound — 
 
 Lough Brin's unceasing flow. 
 
 Tlie lonesome scene and hour, 
 The sullen plashing of the lake. 
 
 Hath in the pensive mind a pow'r 
 The tender mood to wake. 
 
 Hark ! 'mid the stillness deep. 
 Again, again, that monotone ! 
 
 As if it woo'd o'er dell and steep, 
 Faint Echo's kindred moan.
 
 32 KILLAENEY SKETCHES. 
 
 Lo ! from its mountain perch 
 
 Glides, Hawk-like, down the vocal Bird, 
 As if in dell he wish'd to search 
 
 The Echo-note he heard. 
 
 '. Doubly I felt alone ; 
 
 That morning had I left behind 
 One, whose voice was to my own, 
 As Echo soft and kind. 
 
 How like yon Vocalist, 
 
 The fancy oft sweet music makes ; 
 But vainly, vainly does she list 
 
 The Echoes she awakes. 
 
 But there's a whispering, 
 
 That from fair holy realms above, 
 
 Comes o'er the spirit, and doth bring 
 Sweet Echoings of love. 
 
 Oft in the forest glade. 
 
 Or where tall craggy mountains close, 
 And lonely Tarns beneath the shade 
 
 Of beetling chffs repose ; 
 
 Or on resounding shore, 
 
 Where the blue-curving billows break 
 With deeply-pealing, long-di-aAvn roar — 
 
 There doth that spirit speak. 
 
 No airy syllable, 
 
 To cheat the superstitious heart ; 
 But living word, in us to dwell. 
 
 And blessing to impart.
 
 KILLARNEY SKFtoiiES. 33 
 
 Yes — as the dew of Heav'n, 
 
 Or precious ointment shed abroad ; 
 
 In us the Word and Spirit given, 
 " Shed forth the love of God."* 
 
 On mountain lone and wild, 
 
 Rather than in Cathedral fane, 
 Doth the deep-musing spirit own 
 
 Such inward Heav'n-sent strain. 
 
 Romans, v. 5.
 
 34: KILLAKNET SKETCHES. 
 
 rtodfllj ^\\tith. 
 
 LOUGH CUILLIN, GLANBEGH, CO. KEEEY. 
 {Inscribed to Mrs. Phillips, O' Moore's Forest.] 
 
 % OUGH gradh na Glinn Cvillin ! 
 
 ^ Dear Lake of the Holly Glin ! 
 
 Child of the mountains, calmly here reposing 
 
 Deep in their bosom, beetling cliffs beneath ; 
 Tin? eagle's haunt, around thy cradle closing ; 
 
 One outlet leaving, where, thro' rock and heath, 
 A streamlet steals to the sheer mountain-brow, 
 
 And thence, with echoing din, 
 
 Tossing from ledge to ledge, a foaming linn, 
 It seeks Lough Sahern's basin spread below. 
 
 Lough gradh na Glinn Cuillin ! 
 Dear Lake of the Holly Glin ! 
 So still amid thine Alpine solitude, 
 
 The storms that rudely shake our nether world, 
 And chase the mountain mists in furious mood. 
 
 Leave yet thy shelter'd waters all uncurPd. 
 Ko sound is liere the echo to awake, 
 
 Save one small silvery note. 
 
 From viewless Chorister, that seems to float 
 Like faery music o'er thy charmed Lake.
 
 KILLARXEY SKETCHES. 35 
 
 Lough gradh na Glinn Cuillin ! 
 Dear Lake of the Holly Glin ! 
 Iiarely, I ween, thy shingly shore is trod, 
 
 Save by the Goatherd when some truant seeking. 
 No trace of man is here — a present God, 
 
 These tow'ring cliflFs, this crystal tide, bespeaking. 
 ^Yith sympathising glow my bosom warms, 
 
 Tho' mine the toil, and moisten'd brow, 
 Hard by yon Cataract, as I scaled e'en now 
 
 These trackless heights to woo thy lone, wild charms. 
 
 Lough gradh na Glinn Cuillin / 
 Dear Lake of the Holly Glin ! 
 The tranquil beauty of thy crystal smile, 
 
 That mirrors islet, cliff, and dappled sky, 
 Hath a strange pow'r my spu-it to beguile 
 
 Of half its toil, and glad my longing eye. 
 And shall I then decline the up-hill road ? 
 
 Shall I decline the toil 
 
 That leads me from this world of low tm-moil 
 To scenes of peace and bliss, by Angels trod. 
 To crystal streams which grace the Paradise of God ?
 
 36 KILLARNEY SKETCHES. 
 
 Cfexrle^nflj Sluttfj. 
 
 ROSSBEGH. — A FAREWELL. 
 
 llnscribed to the Rev. Edward Fitzgerald Day, of Edenburn.'] 
 
 OAREWELL, Rossbegh ! to thy winding shore, 
 " Where brealis in silvery foam the surge ; 
 
 While I listen'd at eve to its soften'd roar, 
 
 A solemn strain to my heart it bore. 
 
 Like the organ-peal of a Chieftain's dirge. 
 
 To thy sandhills, farewell ! that far protrude 
 Their ranges, shunn'd by the wary Keel ; 
 Where oft the evening breeze we woo'd. 
 Fresh from the Sea, and amused we view'd 
 The gadding Sea-fowl and the basking Seal. 
 
 To thy mountains, farewell ! that bluffly rise 
 
 'Gainst the azure vault in their masses green ; 
 Where many a Tarn sequester'd lies, 
 Reflecting nought but the cliff and skies — 
 Like cloister'd maiden, its charms unseen. 
 
 Farewell to the Lake of Coom-na-Sahr'n ! 
 
 That cradles the Behy's infant tide ; 
 To Lough Eragh, farewell ! and that gem-like Tarn 
 That lists the scream of the passing Her'n, 
 
 Of wild Glen Cuillin the lonely pride.
 
 KILLARNEY SKETCHES. 37 
 
 To Lough Caragh, fareAvell ! the lovely Queen 
 
 Of our far- west Lakes, where the raptur'd eye 
 Can dwell on many a charming scene 
 Of terraqueous beauty, that might, I ween, 
 Ev'n with KiUarney's graces vie. 
 
 Arcadian scene ! where the waving Avood 
 With crags, Goat-trodden, softly blends — 
 
 Where now Clogh-dhu in tranquil mood 
 
 Expands ; and now, a weltering flood 
 On the blacken'd rocks its fury spends. 
 
 There Garrane Tuahal the sylvan scene 
 
 Like a Sentry guards from his mountain tow'r ; 
 
 And the Cahirs, aspiring with lordly mien. 
 
 Still to fair Cara's Water- Queen 
 
 Their willing tribute in ton-ents pour. 
 
 Farewell, Eossbegh ! but thy charms shall dwell, 
 And thy healthful gifts, where'er I roam. 
 
 In grateful Memory's inmost cell, 
 
 As Ocean's tones in the winding-shell, 
 Tho' far away from its Ocean home.
 
 38 KILLARNET SKETCHES. 
 
 Jfourtttntlj Slutdj. 
 
 BEAUFORT, CO. KEREY. 
 [Inscribed to Mrs. Fitzgerald Bay, Beaufort.'] 
 
 \l±. hail, ye woods ! that crown old Beaufort's steep, 
 ^ Where half-reveal'd, half-hid, yon mansion smiles — 
 Where Lanne, majestic Laune, with graceful sweep, 
 Divides his easy strength 'mid clustering Isles. 
 
 There might the Nymphs of mountain, stream, and wood, 
 
 Naiads, and Dryads, and Oreades, 
 Together meet, and parley in blythe mood, 
 
 Blendmg their lays with sylvan melodies. 
 
 The mountain Nymph of her wild haunts might tell, 
 Those scenes where infant lakes and floods are nurs'd ; 
 
 The lonely Tarn that sleeps in dusky dell, 
 
 Where fearless slakes the Stag his mid-day thirst. 
 
 Might tell of hollow-bosom'd clifl's, mayhap. 
 Where Sister Echo dwells — fantastic guest ! 
 
 Now waking vocal-thunders in " The Gap," 
 Now fairy music at the " Eagle's Nest." 
 
 Might tell, too, of the Giant of " The Reeks," 
 
 On Alpine throne in state majestic set ; 
 His brow, as mountain monarch well bespeaks, 
 
 Crown'd with a sky-indenting coronet.
 
 KILLARJJEY SKETCHES. 39 
 
 Might tell of Garrane Tuahal's loftier pride, 
 
 Like Champion braving elemental war, 
 Pouring his streams to swell Lough Caragh's tide, 
 
 Guarding the sylvan beauties of Glencar. 
 
 But most the Nymph might dwell on thee, Dunloe ! 
 
 Thy Gap on lovely Beaufort darkly looming ; 
 The lakelets in thy gorges nestling low, 
 
 'Neath sheltering cliiFs with purple heather blooming. 
 
 " Such sylvan beauties," then, the Dryad maid 
 
 Might say, " are mine. There is my noontide rest ; 
 
 There rove I in a wilderness of shade. 
 Listing the cooing, wooing of the Quest. 
 
 " There gather I Avild flowers for my hair. 
 Heath, Harebell, Primrose, Wood-anemones ; 
 
 There, too, the wild fruits, sweet tho' simple fare. 
 Nuts, Cherries, Hurts, Arbutus, Strawberries. 
 
 " There do T mark the wild Stag half-asleep, 
 LuU'd by O'SuUivan's deep-toned Cascade ; 
 
 Pity his large dark eye should ever weep. 
 Or harsher tone his covert e'er invade ! 
 
 " Pity the Hunter's warwhoop or the Hound 
 
 Should startle Tomies' leafy solitude ! 
 The Cuckoo's note, or water's gushing sound, 
 Meeter to break the stillness so profound 
 
 That reigns amid Glenaa's high-tow'ring wood.
 
 40 KILLARNEY SKETCHES. 
 
 " Scared by such clamour, gladly I repair 
 To quiet scenes, to Beaufort's sacred grove — 
 
 Saci-ed to peace, where ev'n the timid Hare 
 
 May play his innocent pranks, and fearless rove. 
 
 " Sacred to peace, indeed, are Beaufort Bowers ! " 
 Thus the fair Naiad of Laune-beg might say ; 
 
 " And happy they that spend such peaceful hours. 
 And love to exercise a kindly sway. 
 
 " Here all secure upon the river's brink 
 The Heron stands to watch his finny prey ; 
 
 Here, too, the Cushats, joiu'd by golden link 
 Of strong affection, pom- th' alternate lay. 
 
 " And here by Islet's unfrequented shore 
 The plashing Wild duck safely may abide ; 
 
 And Mallard, like some gallant Commodore, 
 May lead his fledg'd flotilla o'er the tide. 
 
 " Tiie Fairies, too, that dwell in yon fair Fort, 
 
 Shall see the hand of Taste improve its plight ; 
 Planted and fenced, 'twill be a genial Court 
 AVhere Oberon shall hold his moonlight sport. 
 And silvoiy strains shall charm the ear of Night. 
 
 " While here retired I deck my sparry- Grot, 
 
 'Neath quiet shades and Laune's deep-gurgling tide, 
 
 Ev'n Innisfallen's caves I covet not, 
 
 Killarney's Queen of islands, and her pride.
 
 KILLARNEY SKETCHES. 41 
 
 " Here, undisturb'd, Egeria might impart 
 
 To her enamour'd Niima counsels wise ; 
 Here too might Sappho's sweetly plaintive art 
 
 With voice of harp ^Eolian blend her sighs. 
 
 " But hark ! of mortal steps I hear the tread ; 
 
 To ray subaqueous Grotto I retreat — 
 You, sisters, to your haunts ! The time has sped 
 
 Full lightly, spent in colloquy so sweet, 
 
 And Beaufort just the spot for gentle friends to meet."
 
 42 KILLARNEY SKETCHES. 
 
 J^iftccnllj Skettlj. 
 
 ELEGY ON GANZEY, THE CELEBRATED KILLAKNEY PIPER. 
 
 [Inscribed to Morgan John O^Connell, Barrister.} 
 
 SRANT me thine aid, Melpomene ! — 
 If Muse of :Music thon — 
 A minstrel, late thy votary, 
 May claim a tribute now. 
 
 Thy sister Muse, Teqisichore, 
 
 That tribute may enhance. 
 To one that kept up menily 
 
 The spirit of the dance. 
 
 Diana fair, the Huntress too. 
 
 Will scarce refuse a wreath 
 To him that hunted madereen rue ; 
 
 In always at the death. 
 
 Old Ganzey sleeps, whose minstrelsy 
 Has won a world-wide fame ; 
 
 Whilst with his own Killaniey, we 
 Still wed his cherish'd name. 
 
 No Bardic harp by him was spann'd, 
 
 Nor needed be its spell ; 
 The Pioba, in his master-hand, 
 
 Spoke music passing well.
 
 KILLAnNEY SKETCHES. 43 
 
 Or bold, or delicate, his touch 
 
 Had magic in its tone ; 
 His humour, spirit, fancy, such 
 
 As Carolan might own. 
 
 His " Ollistrum" — what varied charms 
 
 It wrought ! like wizard's art. 
 At times 'twould rouse the soul to arms — 
 The march — the fight — the trump-alarums — 
 
 Then melt the pitying heart. 
 
 And oh, how rich his " Madareen Rue," 
 
 With all its variations ; 
 With " Jack O'Connell's Beagles " true— 
 The Horn, the challenge — view-halloo-o-o ! 
 
 And " Reynard's Lamentations !" 
 
 What visions lighted up his face ! 
 
 His sight albeit man-'d ; 
 What flights of fancy could we trace — 
 
 He look'd the very Bard. 
 
 As o'er hill-side, the light and shade 
 
 Each other seem to chase ; 
 So would the smile break out, and fade, 
 
 On Ganzey's dreamy face : 
 
 As if some visionary l}Te, 
 
 In air suspended near, 
 Or harpings from some Fairy choir, 
 
 Told on his chanued ear.
 
 44: KILLAENEY SKETCHES. 
 
 He sleeps ! now peace be with our Bard, 
 We long shall miss his note 
 
 In hall — on deftly-footed sward — 
 And pleasure-seeking boat. 
 
 No more ! Now o'er his relics sweeps 
 The fitful, dirge-like wind ; 
 
 Nor far apart his Patron sleeps, 
 Headley, the good and kind. 
 
 The lake in view at Aghadoe, 
 
 A bard-befitting pile ; 
 Thither can boatmen point and shew 
 
 Ganzey's last domicile.
 
 KILLARNEY SKETCHES. 45 
 
 SUItnitfj Slutclj. 
 
 THE TWELVE SCORE GENTLEMEN. 
 gi l-'cgcnii of liUgarban, €0. furrn. 
 
 A FRAGMENT FROM THE JOURNAL OF MILES TROTTER. 
 
 [Inscribed to R. Conway Hickson, Esq., of Fermoyle.'] 
 
 ****** 
 
 JUT 'tis time I should mention among the phenomena 
 ^ Here to be met with, as strange and nncommon a 
 Species of gentry as any I know, 
 O'SulIivans — don't for your life drop the " " — 
 As a proof of their notions of family honour, 
 I'll mention an anecdote told me by Connor — 
 " The priest of their parish (Kilgarvan 'tis named), 
 Once on a time from the altar declaim'd 
 In these words, or some such, to his flock gather'd round— 
 ' My beloved ! I beg your attention profound, 
 To a matter of mighty concern to you all — 
 Namely, whether your Chapel's to stand or to fall ; 
 And whether this Altar where, heav'n be their portion ! 
 Your fathers for ages pom*'d forth their devotion, 
 Shall still to your sons of the latest geu'ration. 
 Rear the Cross, blest memorial of grace and salvation ! 
 Or in ruins become the abode of the Bat, 
 The Weasel, Hobgoblin, and the Lord knows what.
 
 46 KILLARNEY SKETCHES. 
 
 But no ! from joui' looks, my clear children, 'tis clear, 
 
 With regard to your zeal, I have nothing to fear. 
 
 As for you, for the sake of your soul, Thady 0', 
 
 You'd pawn the last shirt oiF your back, I well know. 
 
 My blessing about you, sweet Corny Kithogue, 
 
 'Tis you that's a chip of the old block, you rogue. 
 
 And you, Teig-a-Botha (tliey say), you're so wild — - 
 
 Never heed, you've as honest a heart as a child. 
 
 The O'SuUivans ever, in times long ago, 
 
 Were pious and dutiful — signs on it so. 
 
 Their religious endowments — why all Cork and Kerry is 
 
 Full of their Friaries and Monasteries — 
 
 Their ruins, I mean. Them Sass'nachs, och hone ! 
 
 Have suck'd all the marrow, and left but the bone. 
 
 Och, if I had a guinea for every Saint I 
 
 Could count of your race, I'd have eighteen or twenty. 
 
 With the Hermit of Caherconrigh I'd begin, 
 
 Then St. Kiernan, St. Flannan, St. Fineen, lSt. Finn, 
 
 And St. Patrick himself, I could count of your kin. 
 
 But soiTOw occasion to name any more. 
 
 If I wish'd, I could readily make up the score. 
 
 To the point then. The beggarly, rack'd situation 
 
 Of your Chapel quite beggars my pow'rs of relation. 
 
 See the roof, like a riddle, the ram pouring thro', 
 
 The walls as much worn as a Pilgrim's shoe. 
 
 The Saints in their Pictures so mouldy are grown. 
 
 That St. Paul from St. Peter can hardly be known. 
 
 Thefurms are on their last legs, and I fear, 
 
 I shall be so myself ere the end of the year. 
 
 For I've got a big cold — my limbs are so cramp'd — 
 
 I've cough'd out my lungs, and my spirits are damp'd. 
 
 But to shorten my sermon, for more would be nonsense,
 
 KILLARNEY SKETCHES. 47 
 
 I'll leave it, my boys, to your honour and conscience, 
 
 To relieve your poor ancient old Chapel's distress — 
 
 Contribute, each man from his rank, more or less. 
 
 From each gentleman present, a Crown at the least 
 
 I've a right to expect — half-a-crown from the rest. 
 
 Now my duty's performed, I wager a crown. 
 
 That every soul here Avill perform his own.' 
 
 Thus, the worthy old Sogarth, who knew, and well knew. 
 
 The lads he address'd, and could manage them too ; 
 
 Who could tune every chord of their feelings with skill. 
 
 To play any music that suited his will ; 
 
 And, as in the waters of Blarney, we're told, 
 
 The Trout, tickled under the gills, are cajoled. 
 
 And wait to be caught, so this dexterous P.P. 
 
 Knew well how to tickle his flock, as you'll see ; 
 
 For out of two hundred and forty, they say. 
 
 That were present, twelve score gave a Crown on that day. 
 
 A great day it was for Kilgarvan. The name 
 
 Of O'Sullivan gain'd an accession of fame. 
 
 To this day their descendants — don't think I'm mocking— 
 
 As a badge of gentility, wear the white stocking. 
 
 And the tale in the name of the district shall stand. 
 
 While 'tis call'd ' The Twelve Score Gentlemen's Land.' "
 
 48 KILLARNEV SKETCHES. 
 
 L'AERIERE. 
 
 ^ULL time 'tis now to hush th' ambitious L}Te 
 ' A Bard has waken'd in Killaruey's praise, 
 Musing on scenes, whose channs might well inspire 
 
 Such way-side Bard his feeble voice to raise. 
 
 Nature he sought to sketch in various phase. 
 Koss, Mucross, Tore, Glenaa, Reeks, Tomies — each, 
 
 In turn, has claim'd his tributary lays. 
 Mere wild flowers, and within wayfax'er's reach'; 
 Yet such, he hopes, as to the pensive mind may preach 
 Of other scenes beyond the pow'rs of pencil, pen, or speech.
 
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