POETRY.
IRISH SONG.
1817(30E8T:01D BY A LYRIC or BARRY CORNWALL'S.]
On:! the Spring's delight Is the cowslip bright, As she laughs to the warblin' linnet ; And a whistlin' thrush On a white May bush, And his mate in the neat widin it.
Summer she shows Her rose; her rose ! And oh! all the happy night long The nightingale woos her ; At dawn the lark sues her, Wid the crystal surprise of his song.
King Autumn's crown Is the barley brown, Red over wid rosy fruit ; And the yellow trees, As they sigh in the breeze, Are the strings of his solemn lute.
Ould Winter's breath Is could as Death, Wirra! lonesome he's left the earth ; Yet the thrush he sings And the rose she springs From the flame of his fairy hearth.
THE Al7THOR OF "SONGS OF KILLARNEY."