POETRY.

STORM.

(COUNTY WEXFORD.)

THERE'S a storm is blowing up from the sea —That Christ in mercy may save us all— For the waves are lapping the harbour wall, An' dirty weather it's sure to be.

The storm-dog* shone in the morning sky And the waves to the west are ten foot high. God in Heaven! the waves are white— Let You watch near the boats to-night !

* Stonn-dog, rainbow. For it's sure enough when the shadows fall Sorrow will come for some of us here, In the cold black night with its cold black fear Fear of the sea and fear of the squall. A woeful thing it is to be wed

To a man that looks to the sea for bread! Holy Mary, pity our plight, Let you pray for our men to-night!

There's Patrick is in it and Christy too,

A soft young lad an' he not sixteen— An' his brother drownded last Hallow E'en—

Grad help his mother, what will she do ?

She had a right to have bid him stay, But the young lads fret till they go away.

God keep Christy and John in sight, Save them both from their death to-night!

There is Daniel Connor and young Tom Byrne

With a child at home not three days old ; But it's hungry the child will be and cold If there's no man in it, nor wage to earn ; An' lonesome herself will be this day

That's sick and weak an' her man away.

Heart of Heaven, pity her fright, Send her comfort this long black night !

The wind of the world is lashing the sea, The waves lep high like men at a fair, Wicked old men with their silvery hair.

Sorrow and weeping for some one there'll be, Toil for the men an' danger and fear, With the cold black death that is waiting near.

God Almighty, pity their plight, Let Christ walk on the waves to-night!

W. M. LETTS.