22 SEPTEMBER 1894, Page 17

A BROKEN SONG.

" Where am I from ?" From the green hills of Erin. " Have I no song now ?" My songs are all sung. ",What o' my love, then ?" Alone I am farire.

Old grows my heart, an' my voice yet is young.

"If she was tall ? " Like a King's own daughter.

"If she was fair ?" Like a mornin' o' May.

When she'd come laughin', 'twas the runnin' watber :— When she'd come blushin', 'twas the break o' day.

"Where did she dwell ?" Where one'st I had my dwellin'.

"Who loved her best ?" Th' are no one now will know. " Where is she gone ?" Oeh, why would I be tellin'!

Where she is gone, there I can never go.

Moir.A O'NEILL.