bláṫuġaḋ, agus an m-beiḋ Gaeḋil Albann agus Éireann gan focal d’a d-teangain uasail? Nár ceaduíġṫear an náire sin do ṫeaċt ar ċineaḋ Scoit, aċt go raiḃ ré na Saṁna ag taiṫneaṁ orra, agus gaoṫ féin na Saṁna ag séideaḋ orra, agus iad le guailliḃ a ċéile ar son a d-teangan.
Seáġan Pléimion.
The following are the Stanzas alluded to in the above Article:—
1. She through the whins, and by the cairn
And owre the hill gaed scrievin,
Whare three lairds’ lands meet at a burn,
To dip her left sark-sleeve in,
Was bent that night.
2. They hoy’t out Will, wi’ sair advice;
They hecht him some fine braw ane;
It chanced the stack he faddom’t thrice,
Was timmer-propt for thrawin’;—
3. She through the yard the nearest taks,
And to the kiln she goes then.
And darklins graipit for the banks,
And in the blue-clue throws then,
Right fear’t that night.
And aye she win’t, and aye she swat,
I wat she made nae jaukin’,
Till something held within the pat,
Guid Lord! but she was quakin’!
4. Then up gat fechtin’ Jamie Fleck,
And he swore by his conscience,
That he could saw hemp-seed a peck,
For it was a’ but nonsense.
The auld guidman raught down the pock.
And out a handfu’ gied him ;
Syne bade him slip frae ’mang the folk,
Sometime when nae ane see’d him,
And try’t that night.
5. Then straught or crooked, yird or nane.
They roar and cry a’ throu’ther;
The very wee things, toddlin’, rin,
Wi’ stocks out-owre their shouther;
And gi’f the custoc’s sweet or sour,
Wi’ joctelegs they taste them.
Syne cozily, aboon the door,
Wi’ cannie care, they’ve placed them
To lie that night,
See Burns’ “Hallowe’en.”
AṀARCA CLEASAĊA: Uiṁ. 1.
BRIAN BOROIṀE:
Roiṁ a ċaṫ deiġeanaċ.
Is mór an ċúṁaċt tá in mo láiṁ anois,
Is mór an clú air m’ainim ṫríd an tír:
Aċt is mó an brón tá cnaoiḋeaḋ in mo ċroiḋe
’Ná cúṁaċt no glór na n-daoineaḋ. Ċuir
me síos
An slioċt a raiḃ árd-réim air Éirinn aca
O aois go h-aois gur éiriġ mise. Aċt ní h-é
Aṁáin gur sgriosas ins an g-caṫ a sluaġ,—
Tá siad féin am’ leanaṁain! Ins an áit so,
Ós cóṁair árd-ḃaile ṁóir na Loċlonnaċ,
Tá Clanna Néill am’ ḋiaiġ teaċt go toilteaċ:
Air mo láiṁ ḋeis atá Maoilṡeaċlainn[1] féin,
An fear ó’r ṫógas-sa coróin na h-Éireaim.
Tá sé-sean déanaḋ cogṫa air mo ṡon,
Ċó treunṁar agus air a ṡon féin ċeana
An tan ro ḃuaiḋ a ṁór-ċlaoiḋeaṁ óg
Air Riġ na Loċlonnaċ na muince órḋa.
Ní féidir leis na Loċlonnaiġiḃ anois,
Seasaḋ am’ aġaiḋ. Atá mo ḃuaiḋ cinnte,
Beiḋ sí an-ṁór a’s beiḋ ró-ġlórṁar freisin
Óir troidfiḋ an náṁaid go h-eudóṫċasaċ.
Beiḋ árd-ċlú air an g-caṫ so, clú naċ
raiḃ
Ariaṁ air ċaṫ air biṫ i d-tír na h-Éireann—
Agus ’s na h-uile ṡaoġaltaiḃ le teaċt
Is dil a ḃeiḋ a ainim a’s a sgeul:
A’s daoine fós naċ m-beiḋ ár d-teanga aca,
- ↑ “Maoilsheachlainn. In Irish this monarch’s name is pronounced Mailaughlin, the initial letter of sechlainn being mortified. The second monarch of this name” (here referred to) “is styled Maoilseachlainn Mór, i.e., the Great, a title he well merited, notwithstanding the calumnious aspersions of the Shannachies of Munster. In writing English, some call him Melaghlin, which is well enough, but others barbarously translate his name Malachy.”—O’Mahony’s “Keating,” notes. The name is formed of the familiar prefix Maol (vulgo Mul), and Seachnall, the name of an ancient Irish saint, disciple of St. Patrick, from whom Dunshaughlin (Dúnseachnaill), in Co. Meath, obtained its name. The last letters have become transposed by usage. Maoilseachlainn, therefore, signifies the disciple of (or one devoted to) Seachnall.—Ed. G. F.
