And Irish Nora's eyes are dim Sleep, soldiers! still in honor'd rest The loving are the daring. BAYARD TAYLOR. By permission of, and by special arrangement with, Houghton Mifflin Co., from Taylor's POETICAL WORKS. IT'S A FAR, FAR CRY It's a far, far cry to my own land, In Rosses and Gweedore Where white-maned waves come prancing up To Dooran's rugged shore. There's a cabin there by a holy well, Once blessed by Columbcille, My heart is sick of the level lands, Where the long-nosed guns from dusk to dawn But the little home by Glenties Hill, Ah! that's the place for me. A candle stuck on the muddy floor PATRICK MACGILL. By permission, MacGill, SOLDIER SONGS, E. P. Dutton & Co. KILLARNEY By Killarney's lakes and fells, Innisfallen's ruined shrine May suggest a passing sigh; Angels wonder not that man Beauty's home, Killarney, No place else can charm the eye M. W. BALfe. THE SUN RISES BRIGHT IN FRANCE The sun rises bright in France, And fair sets he; But he has tint the blythe blink he had My lanely hearth burn'd bonnie, An' smiled my ain Marie; I've left a' my heart behin' In my ain countree. The bud comes back to summer, |