hore.

An' the sun on the rocks behind me,
Bright on the gorse an' whin,
An' the sun on the slantin' dories
With their white sails tackin' in.

Oh, I 'll be gay o' the sunlight,
Glad of its glint an' grace,
If its beams will only show me
The smile on one sailor's face!

THE "BOHAREEN"[1]

In the kingdom they call "Kerry" there 's a "bohareen" goes climbin'
Above the thatch o' cots at Ballymore--
A little rovin' footway--an' the goat bells keep a-chimin'
In the heather slopin' upward from the shore

For the slopes are clad with heather, noddin' heather, purple heather,
Where the bees make honey-music in the noon;
An' if you should chance to stray there in a scrap o' sunny weather
A warbler will be tossin' you a tune.

An' you can look to seaward through the gray-green gulf o' wonder
An' watch the slantin' sails a-dippin' far,
An' you can mark about you how the rocks are rent asunder,
An' the heights are mountin' up to reach the star.

But it 's not the sea below it, nor the craggy crests above it,
Nor the bracken with the mosses soft between,
Nor the droopin' bells o' heather, nay, it 's not for these I love it,
That wanderin', that windin' "bohareen!"

But a thought that keeps a-chimin' in my heart like tender rhymin'
Of one who clambered upward from the shore--
Whose feet with mine kept timin' as the pair o' us went climbin'
Long ago that "bohareen" at Ballymore!

[1] "Bohareen," bypath.

AN IRISH IDYL

As I stood amid the bracken, as I stood amid the fern,
I could hear the merry bicker, the blithe bicker of the burn.
Bees were hummin', softly hummin';
"She 's a comin'! She 's a comin'!"
With a little spurt of laughter called the brook at every turn.

"Watch her! watch her! watch her! watch her!" cried a curlew overhead;
An' I knew that it was Norah by the trippin' of her tread;
An' a gentle wind a croonin'
In the silence of the noonin'--
"Dare you kiss her? dare you kiss her?" were the saucy words it said.

Sure, it stirred the heart within me, did that tauntin' of the wind,
For the selfsame heart I mentioned was a sort of darin' kind;
When she came within my reachin'
There was no pause for beseechin',
For I kissed her, an' I kissed her, an', faith, Norah didn't mind!

AN IRISH LASS

My love has kissed me on the lips an' sailed beyon