BRIDGET CRUISE.-Continued.

Young bud of beauty, forever bright,
The proudest must bow before thee;
Source of my sorrow and my delight-
Oh! must I in vain adore thee?

Where, where, through earth's extended round,
Where may such loveliness be found?
Talk not of fair ones known of yore;
Speak not of Deirdre the renowned-

She whose gay glance each minstrel hail'd;
Nor she whom the daring Dardan bore
From her fond husband's longing arms;
Name not the dame whose fatal charms,

When weighed against a world, prevail'd;
To each might blooming beauty fall,
Lovely, thrice lovely, might they be;
But the gifts and graces of each and all
Are mingled, sweet maid, in thee!

How the entranc'd ear fondly lingers
On the turns of thy thrilling song;
How brightens each eye as thy fair white fingers
O'er the chords fly gently along;

The noble, the learn'd, the ag'd, the vain,

Gaze on the songstress and bless the strain. How winning, dear girl, is thine air,

How glossy thy golden hair;

Oh! lov'd one, come back again.

With thy train of adorers about thee—

Oh! come, for in grief and in gloom we remain—
Life is not life without thee.

My memory wanders-my thoughts have stray'dMy gathering sorrows oppress me―

Oh! look on thy victim, bright peerless maid,

Say one kind word to bless me.

Why, why on thy beauty must I dwell

When each tortur'd heart knows its power too well?

Or why need I say that favor'd and bless'd

Must be the proud land that bore thee?

Oh! dull is the eye and cold the breast
That remains unmov'd before thee.

Oh! 'twas Dermot O'Nolan M'Figg,
That could properly handle a twig;
He went to the fair,

And kicked up a dust there,

In dancing the Donnybrook jig,

With his wig,

Oh! my blessing to Dermot M'Figg.

When he came to the midst of the fair
He was all in a paugh of fresh air,

For the fair very soon,
Was as full as the moon,

Such mobs upon mobs were there,

Oh, rare!

THE DONNYBROOK JIG.-Continued.

The souls they came pouring in fast,
To dance while the leather would last,
For the Thomas-street brogue
Was there in much vague,

And oft with a brogue a joke passed,
Quite fast,

While the cash and the whiskey did last.

But Dermot, his mind on love bent,
In search of his sweetheart he went,
Peeped in here and there,

As he walked through the fair,
And took a small drop in each tent
As he went,

Och! on whiskey'd love he was bent.

And who should he spy in a jig,
With a meal man, so tall and so big,
But his own darling Kate,
So gay and so nate-

Faith, her partner he hit him a dig,
The pig,
He beat the meal out of his wig.

Then Dermot, with conquest elate,
Drew a stool near beautiful Kate;
"Arrah, Katty!" says he,
"My own cushlamachree!

Sure, the world for beauty, you beat,

Complete

So we'll just take a dance while we wait."

The piper to keep him tune,
Struck up a gay lilt very soon,
Until an arch wag

Cut a hole in his bag,

And at once put an end to the tune,

Too soon,

Och! the music flew up to the moon.

THE DONNYBROOK JIG.-Continued.

6

To the fiddler says Dermot M'Figg,
"If you'll please to play, Shelah na gig,'
We'll shake a loose toe,

While you humor the bow,

To be sure you won't warm the wig,

Of M'Figg,

While he's dancing a tight Irish jig."

The meal man he looked very shy,
While a great big tear stood in his eye.
He cried, "Oh, dear, how I'm kilt,
All alone for that jilt,

With her may the birds fly high

In the sky, For I'm murder'd and don't know for why."

"Oh!" says Dermot, and he in the dance, Whilst a step towards his foe did advance, By the Father of men,

66

Say but that word again,

And I'll soon knock you back in a trance

To your dance,

For with me you'd have but a small chance."

66

But," says Katty, the darlint, says she, "If you'll only just listen to me,

It's myself that will show,

That he can't be your foe,

Though he fought for his cousin, that's me,"

66

For, sure, Billy's related to me.

Says she,

"For my own cousin-jarmin, Anne Wild Stood for Biddy Mulrooney's first child, And Biddy's step son,

Sure he married Bess Dunn,

Who was gossip to Jenny, as mild

A child,

As ever at mother's breast smiled.

THE DONNYBROOK JIG.-—Continued.

"And may be you don't know Jane Brown, Who served goats' whey in sweet Dundrum town, 'Twas her uncle's half-brother

That married my mother,

And bought me this new yellow gown,

To go down,

Where the marriage was held in Milltown."

Oh then how the girls did look,

When the clergyman opened his book,
Till young Nelly Shine,

Tipt Dermot a sign,

Faith, he soon popped her into a nook

Near the brook,

And there he linked arms with the cook.

"By the powers!" then says Dermot, "'tis plain; Like the son of that rapscallion Cain,

My best friend I've kilt,

Though no blood there is spilt,

And the never a harm did I mean,

That's plain,

But by me he'll ne'er be kilt again."

Then the mealman forgave him the blow,
That laid him a-sprawling so low,

And being quite gay,

Asked them both to the play,

But Katty, being bashful, said "No,

No, no,"

Yet he treated them all to the show.