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THE IRISH CATHOLIC TO HIS PROTESTANT BROTHER.

"Oh, Paddy, my boy,
What makes you so shy
To join with your Protestant brother,
Your brother?
Sure, you'll never thrive,
Unless you contrive
To be on good terms with each other,
Each other."

Old Song.

I.

What curse is on our land and us,
That bigot strife so long has lasted—
That every cheering prospect thus
Is by its fatal influence blasted!
That still, when round our banner green
The dawning hope of freedom rallies,
Religious discord comes between,
To mix her poison in the chalice!


II.

Religious discord! Oh! shall man,
The worm by doubt and darkness bounded,
His fellow-creature dare to ban,
For faith, in God, sincerely founded!
A holier gospel let us preach,
In spite of angry bigot's railing—
His own eternal hope to each;
But love and peace through all prevailing.


III.

And are not all our ties the same—
One sod beneath—one blue sky o'er us;
True Irish both, in heart and name—
One lot, or dark, or bright before us?
A thousand links about us wound
To peace and mutual kindness urge us;
The very seas that gird us round
Speak union in their sleepless surges.


IV.

Remember glorious eighty-two,
And wakening freedom's voice of thunder;
That spirit first was roused by you,
Which burst at length my bonds asunder.
How bright, though brief, the halo then
That o'er our common country lighted!
Alas! the spoiler came again—
He came, and found us disunited.


V.

Our annals stained with blood and tears
Still preach this warning, this example,
The wicked feuds of bygone years
At once beneath our feet to trample.
To have but one distinction known,
One line from henceforth drawn among us,
The line of false and true alone,
Of those who love and those who wrong us.


VI.

Unite with me, then, brother mine,
Oppressor and oppressed no longer,
A bond of peace we'll round us twine
Than all the Saxon's fetters stronger.
Be Ireland's good our common creed,
Her sacred cause alone enlist us;
With gallant hearts and God to speed
What power on earth will dare resist us?


THE END.