A Broadside: No. 12 Fourth Year
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DIE WE MUST
Die we must and go to dust,
But let us all be merry;
Let us drink the cocktail down
And let us eat the cherry.
Though we win across the sea,
Let us not be tired;
Yon's the blue and hazy line
Of the lands desired.
Fill the jolly bowl again,
And to hell with sorrow;
We may be the lucky men
At the cards to-morrow.
Darkness brings another day,
So let us sing a chorus;
Though we reach the edge of earth,
There's the sea before us.
White are all the cities there,
All the streets are golden;
All the bonny maids are fair,
Only unbeholden.
Aft the sheet and let her ride
From Vallipo to Trond-em;
Seas are salt and seas are wide,
But the land's beyond them.
Blue and slapping run the waves,
Ebbing out or flowing;
Let us go to life or graves,
Let's at least be going.
Wolfe T. McGowan
THE COMING OF SPRING
From the Irish of Raftery's 'County Mayo' by Padraic Colum
Now, coming on Spring the days will be growing,
And after Saint Bride's day my sail I will throw,
Since the thought has come to me I fain would be going
Till I stand in the middle of the County Mayo.
The first of my days will be spent in Claremorris,
And in Balla down from it I'll have drinking and sport;
To Kiltimagh then I shall go on a visit,
And there, I can tell you, a month will be short.
I solemnly swear that the heart in me rises
As the wind rises up and the mist breaks below;
When I think upon Carra and Gallen down from it,
The Bush of the Mile and the Plains of Mayo.
Killeadean's my village and every good's in it,
There's blackberries, rasberries and all kinds of fruit.
And if Raftery stood in the midst of his people,
Old age would go from him and he'd be in his youth.
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