SIR SAMUEL FERGUSON
Large and profitable are the stacks upon the ground,
Vileacan dubh O I The butter and the cream do wondrously abound;
Uileacan dubh O!
The cresses on the water and the sorrels are at hand, And the cuckoo's calling daily his note of music bland, And the bold thrush sings so bravely his song i' the forest: grand,
On the fair hills of holy Ireland.
��J
��SIR FRANCIS HASTINGS DOYLE 722 The Private of the Buffs
"AST night, among his fellow roughs,
He jested, quafTd, and swore, A drunken private of the Buffb,
Who never look'd before. To-day, beneath the foeman's frown,
He stands in Elgin's place, Ambassador from Britain's crown And type of all her race.
Poor, reckless, rude, low-born, untaught,
Bewilder'd, and alone, A heart with English instinct fraught
He yet can call his own. Aye, tear his body limb from limb,
Bring cord, or axe, or flame He only knows, that not through him
Shall England come to shame.
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