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SOLLY HULDOON.
SWEET jewel, my heart has gone oat ov my
keepia', koejjia',
Att' k' l I am waft t tin' it back, wid a slice ov
VCHrdwn;
For I dfefcoe through the night, when I ought
to be sleepin',
Ov the puniest girl in the Connty Tyrone.
'Tis yourself, &•>' you know it, more shame
yon won't show it.
BW I'll list, by my faith, for a dashiu'
dragoon,
It yon don't quit your jokin', that's more
(fato'provrfkin',
An' $ty my love for yon, Molly Mnldoon.
There's Shnsey Magee drinks her tay oat ov
Ohaney;
Ger father, the drover, baa money in
store;
An' Kitty M'Kenna, that plays a payanna,
An* troth, if I liked—now I needn't Bay
more;
Bat little I oare for themselves or their
riches;
An' the music you'd make wid your noggin
an'spoon
Would be sweeter to me, if I slept in tbe
ditches,
An' scraped tbe same pot wid you, Molly
Mnldoon.
Och! Molly, achorra, don't kill me wid
sorrow,
I'm wake on my feet wid the weight of my
- woes;
• honldin's neglected,' an' famine expected,
"ough in tbe meadow a roost for tbe
Oi'i/fffe^
An' little it matters, my poor heart in
tatthers;
For a corpse on tbe boord I'll be stretched
for yon soon;
Or, wid ribbons all flyin', I'll langh while
you're cry in',
Then wad where yoa will, cruel Molly
Mnldoon.
I'm a heart true and tendber, to lore yoa for
ever,
five cows and a cowlt, and a guinea to
spare;
Sot to mention my faction, tbe sonlov a
; . motion.
Mavrone ! oan't they scatter the fan ov a
. fair.
Bnt long-legged Mullen, and crooked-eyed
Culien,
Tbey brag ov your smiles, but I'll alther
their tone;
or [there's murdhar a brewin', an' all ov
yonr doin*—
I'mlosin' my sowl for yoa, Molly Maldoon.
But I don't oare a rap, if I never see glory,
'He's not in shoe-leather who'll take you
from me;
An', for all yonr sweet schamin', tbe end of
the story
Will tell in my lavonr, a coUeenmachree;
For I know in yonr heart there's a spark for
me burnin'
No schamin' can smother, so whisper
aroon—
'Tis a fortnight to Lent, an' yon'll sever
repent,
If we're one for the ashes, sweet Molly
Mnldoon. B. M.
—The Momghan Advocate.
MB. SXLVESTBB Gillman, Crown Solicitor of
Cork, has died rather enddenly. He was
only «few days lying ill with dyptberia. An
important position is rendered vaoant by his
depth.
. Xtnc PoltoB-stmet great fish market, Kew
York, has been destroyed by fire. Tbe conflagration
originated in one of the stalls, sad
notwithstanding tbe exertions of tt)e firemen,
who jwere early on tbe spot, tbe bailding was
oompletely eoneumed. It wag'- insured for
£75,000, and a large amount ol stock, whioh
was deBhoyed,«t £50,000.
$