15 MARCH 1879, Page 16

POETRY.

IRISH SONG.

[Am: " OH ! WOMAN OF TIM HOUSE."] BEFORE the first ray of blushing day, Who should come by but Kitty Chan, With her cheek like the rose on a bed of snows, And her bosom beneath like the sailing swan,— I looked and looked, till my heart was gone.

With the foot of the fawn she crossed the lawn, Half confiding, and half in fear; And her eyes of blue, they thrilled me through, One blessed minute, then like the deer Away she darted, and left me here.

Oh! Sun, you are late at your golden gate, For you've nothing to show beneath the sky To compare to the lass who crossed the grass

Of the shamrock field ere the dew was dry,—

And the glance that she gave me as she went by.

THE AUTHOR OF "SONGS OF KILLARNEY."