POETRY.
THE GALWAY MARE. rAtit :—" Nora O'Neale."1
IN the course of my wand'rings, from Cong to Kantark,— And a man of his honour is Jeremy Burke,—
I've seen many horses, but none, I declare, Could eon:Tate wid Jack Rafferty's fox-hunting mare.
She was black as the slit, From the head to the fut, And as nate in her shapes as a Royal Princess ; Twinty miles in the hour was her lowest horse-power, 'Twould desthroy her intirely to go at a less !
No Arabian charger that's bred in the South Had so silky a coat or obayclient a mouth ; And her speed was so swift, man alive ! I'd go bail She'd slip cane away from the Holyhead mail. Her asiest saunther Was quick as a canther, Her gallop resimbled a lightning express ; Twinty miles in the hour was her lowest horse-power, 'Twould desthroy her intirely to go at a less !
There was never a fence so conthrary or cruel But she would conthrive to surmount it, the jewel ! And Jack on her back, widont getting a toss, Clared ditches, no matther how crabbed or cross.
An iligant shtepper, A wondherful lepper,— Don't talk of Bucephalus or of Black Bess,- Twinty miles in the hour was her lowest horse-power, 'Twould desthroy her intirely to go at a less !
They were clifted,* the two of them, Jack and the mare, Returning one night from the Blackwater fair : Bad 'case to that road ! in the worst place of all There isn't a sign or a taste of a wall.
Sure the Barony's grief Was beyant all belief,- 'Twas the loss of the mare caused the greater disthress ;- Twinty miles in the hour was her lowest horse-power, 'Twould desthroy her intirely to go at a less!
• Anglia, "Fell over a cliff.'
CHARLES L. GRAVES.
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