sense to knock the red mools frae his clouted shoon; and yet will cast ye frae him, when he has done, like a wisp o' shelled peastraw. 'Deed, I'se warrant, ye're proud o' ye're red and white cheeks, and ye're conceited o' your bonnie blue een, and vain o' ye're straight and taper waist, that ony haveral may span. Bide a gliff, my rosie kimmer, bide a gliff. Pride biggit its nest on a high tree, and humility laid its eggs on the ground; and the strang wind blew down the tane, and the wicked weazel destroyed

the tither;-a tap piece o' morality!
This is a wide and a wondrous world,
and I may meet you yet in a strange
barn, wi' a beggar's brat in your blan-
ket, and receiving frae hands whilk
scorn ye a truncher o' butterless pur-
tatoes, as I do now." And thus hav-
ing given vent to the natural spite of
her bosom, she addressed herself to
supper, with an avidity that soon
made up the leeway which her speak-
ing had occasioned.
(To be continued.)

DANIEL O'ROURKE, AN EPIC POEM.

Private Letter from a Member of the Cork Literary and Philosophical Society.

MY DEAR SIR,

MR FOGARTY has been obliged to go to Carbery, to join Tom Hungerford of the Island, in a great shooting match, and has left me the task of writing to you concerning his famous epic. I must confess, I am not capable of doing so with poetical justice, being but little impregnated with poetry. My mind turns to divine philosophy, and I am at present busy in a dissertation on the comparative advantages of white and black breeches. Your pages are

not ignorant of my philosophical labours, for if you turn to Vol. IV. page 363, you will find an account of a zinc-devouring spider, which you extracted from Professor Thompson's Annals of Philosophy. You may perhaps be anxious to hear of the further operations of this interesting insect, and I am happy to be able to gratify so laudable a curiosity. When I found that he ate the zinc so freely, I thought I might try him with other substances, and I accordingly began my operations on a grand scale. I first gave him a brass rapper, which he ate in half an hour; next a pewter quart, which he despatched with equal rapidity; and a smoothing-iron suffered the same fate in about ten minutes. I then gave him a piece of timber, in hopes he would come to a baulk, but he swallowed it. He afterwards devoured an ink-bottle, a pair of leather-breeches, buttons and all; a horn snuffbox, an old hat, a wig block, a bundle of keys, a cable, a boot-jack, a hank of yarn, a rusty old sword, a wheel-barrow, a four-bladed penknife, a foraging-cap, a gallipot, (but this gave him the gripes), a muff and tippet, a rattrap, my friend Sam Hall's wig, (but this gave him the itch), a paving-stone, and, harder than all, a presentation copy (bound in calf) of the great Conveyancer's Essay on Bacon. Right and left, he swallowed all before him. Alderman Wood was a fool to him; Alderman Thorp might hide his diminished head to this alderman of the ward of cobweb. We give him here the name of ARANEA VORANS, just as we call JACKSON Amicus Volans, or the FLYING QUAKER. With one thing, however, at last I puzzled him. A paper was read at our Cork Philosophical and Literary Society, by a learned apprentice of the name of A—, which was universally agreed to be the most stupid thing even we had ever heard. The worthy author was not much to blame for the paper, as he had taken the whole of it, scrap by scrap, from whatever books he could lay his hand on, but somehow or other, he contrived to keep us yawning most awfully. This paper I borrowed, to make an experiment on, and immediately submitted it to the fangs of the omnivorous spider. He fell at it like a Trojan. It would have done your heart good to hear the clattering of his mandibles. He ran round and round it, making furious efforts to get in, but found it impenetrable. VOL. VIII.

U

If he would promise, that in case he flew

Too quick"-a pause-" Old Nick would oft entice
Men in the shape of birds and beasts, so I

With him, (though Dan) no step to-night will fly."

8.

But when around the bog he cast a glance,

His home and fire, keen hunger and slow death,
Across his mind, in quick succession dance;

He sickens, trembles, and pants hard for breath.
"If I could think," (with bow and slight advance,)
“That you were not'-(a sly look underneath
For cloven foot,) "If I could think, I say,
There's no foul work, I'd gladly pelt away."

9.

The Eagle, with a look of high disdain,

Rustled his pinions loudly for the flight,
Nor deigned one word in answer-'twas in vain
For Dan to linger; here, for many a night,
Must he in chilling damp and cold remain,
No living thing to cheer his aching sight,
Unless he strode, a plan not quite en regle,
The glossy back of this majestic Eagle.

10.

He groan'd assent. The bird stoop'd down in haste,
And Dan began his saddle to dispose-

His foot upon a master-feather placed,

Mounted with care, and straigthen'd out his toes

Clung close his knees, and heartily embraced

The bird's proud neck, e'er he to flight arose;
Then sticking both his heels into his side,

He soared aloft-let good or ill betide.

11.

Up, up into the sky, a glorious flight,

In many an airy whirl the Eagle sped---
And gallant 'twere to see the grace and might

With which the bird his sail-broad pinions spread,

Cleaving, with feathery oar, the sea of light,

Which all around the silver moon-beans shed;
While on his back bold Daniel clung as stiff
As Sir Astolfo on his Hippogriff.

12.

"I've often heard of spirits in the air,"

Quoth Dan, "but now I find 'tis all a lie;

Devil a drop can I see any where,

To wet my lips that grow so hard and dry ;
Stop, Mr Eagle, stop, for I declare

Your journey now is over, if you'll fly
Down to that dunghill yonder, for I see
My poor wife, Judy, looking out for me."

13.

"Away, away, my steed and I," so sung
Mazeppa's chronicle; but Arab steed,
Nor that on which reluctant Gilpin hung,

Could fly with so much vigour or such speed;
Now skimming strait, now darting up they sprung,
As light as on the whirlwind floats the reed;
And as the bird still upward bravely flew,

Poor Daniel's Jude and dunghill fade from view.

Vid. Ariosto. By the way, Ariosto's description of Astolpho's journey to the mo contains many unauthentic particulars, as I shall probably mention hereafter.

(I ask them all, from sixty to sixteen,

From cheek of wrinkles to the cheek of bloom ;)
If there be one, he'll judge what terrors broke
On Daniel's soul, as thus the Eagle spoke :-

2.

"Good-morrow, Dan! from yon high mountain's peak,
Where I sat brooding o'er my unfledged young,
I saw you here in sorrow: every shriek
Of woe you utter'd, drops of pity wrung
From out my heart; and knowing every creek,
And hole and corner, these dark wilds among,
I'm come to help you homeward, if I can ;

But tell me first, what brought you here, my man."

3.

“O Sir,” says Dan, “I left my home, an' please ye,
To meet my neighbour, Paddy Blake, to-night,
At our ould trysting place, the Mountain Daisy,
With heart at ease, and spirits gay and light;
Ohone! Ohone! misfortunate and crazy,

I drank raw brandy, and was bother'd quite;
And, 'pon my soul, I cannot tell quite clear,
The how or why I find myself just here.”

4.

"It is apparent," quoth the Eagle strait,

"That you've been fuddled, Dan, and more's the shame, To see a decent man of forty-eight,

Stagger along, and lose the road he came ;

Upon my word, 'twere well to let

you wait,

And bring your neighbours to behold your shame;

For of all vices on the earth, I think

The worst consists in appetite for drink.

5.

"I knew you once, Dan, when you'd shrink aghast,
At sight of dram, or pint, or deadly noggin,
When every saint's and lady day you'd fast,

And for your sins inflict the wholesome flogging;
I fear me much these goodly days are past,
Since drink has stuck you (penance fit!) a bog in;
My friendly hints, I fear, will go for nought,
If this night's cooling will not lend you thought.

6.

"However, as this bog is very wide,

And you are still an honest sort of chap-
Have never robb'd birds' nests, nor ever tied
Cosses to dogs or cats ;-I could, mayhap,
If you mount up upon my back astride,

Keep good look out, and shun the treach'rous nap,
Bring you, if flight your senses don't bewilder,
Straight home to Judy and the little childer."

7.

Dan listen'd as all culprits mostly do,

More to the comfort than the good advice;

And after sobbing forth a sigh or two,

Told his kind friend "he'd mount him in a trice,

157

A cannister, or any other appendage tied to a dog's tail, is called in Ireland a Coss. Whether the word is pure English or not, I have not now time to enquire; Dr E. D. Clarke seems to think it is Latin, as he has observed it, he says, very frequently after peoples names in inscriptions, as IMP. CAESAR COS. This is a learned and plausible conjecture, and nearly as probable as Mr Galiffe's proof of the derivation of the language of Rome from that of Russia.

If he would promise, that in case he flew

Too quick' -a pause-" Old Nick would oft entice
Men in the shape of birds and beasts, so I

With him, (though Dan) no step to-night will fly."

8.

But when around the bog he cast a glance,

His home and fire, keen hunger and slow death,
Across his mind, in quick succession dance;

He sickens, trembles, and pants hard for breath.
"If I could think," (with bow and slight advance,)
"That you were not'-(a sly look underneath
For cloven foot,) "If I could think, I say,
There's no foul work, I'd gladly pelt away."

9.

The Eagle, with a look of high disdain,

Rustled his pinions loudly for the flight,
Nor deigned one word in answer-'twas in vain
For Dan to linger; here, for many a night,
Must he in chilling damp and cold remain,

No living thing to cheer his aching sight,
Unless he strode, a plan not quite en regle,
The glossy back of this majestic Eagle.

10.

He groan'd assent. The bird stoop'd down in haste,
And Dan began his saddle to dispose-

His foot upon a master-feather placed,

Mounted with care, and straigthen'd out his toes

Clung close his knees, and heartily embraced

The bird's proud neck, e'er he to flight arose;
Then sticking both his heels into his side,

He soared aloft-let good or ill betide.

11.

Up, up into the sky, a glorious flight,

In many an airy whirl the Eagle sped-
And gallant 'twere to see the grace and might

With which the bird his sail-broad pinions spread,

Cleaving, with feathery oar, the sea of light,

Which all around the silver moon-beams shed;
While on his back bold Daniel clung as stiff
As Sir Astolfo on his Hippogriff.

12.

"I've often heard of spirits in the air,"

Quoth Dan," but now I find 'tis all a lie;

Devil a drop can I see any where,

To wet my lips that grow so hard and dry ;
Stop, Mr Eagle, stop, for I declare

Your journey now is over, if you'll fly
Down to that dunghill yonder, for I see
My poor wife, Judy, looking out for me."

13.

Away, away, my steed and I," so sung

Mazeppa's chronicle; but Arab steed,

Nor that on which reluctant Gilpin hung,

Could fly with so much vigour or such speed;

Now skimming strait, now darting up they sprung,

As light as on the whirlwind floats the reed;
And as the bird still upward bravely flew,

Poor Daniel's Jude and dunghill fade from view.

+Vid. Ariosto. By the way, Ariosto's description of Astolpho's journey to the moon contains many unauthentic particulars, as I shall probably mention hereafter.

14.

"Oh! stop, my Lord," (he thought it best be mild)
"You've past my house, I tould you so before,
Oh! an't I to be pitied?-wife or child,

Or home, or DAISY, I'll ne'er visit more;
The bog was bad, but sure 'twould set one wild,
To be brought here upon the clouds to soar;
Fly down, for God's sake, down there upon Whiddy ;*
I'll surely fall, my head has grown so giddy.

15.

But answer came there none. The Eagle seemed
Bent for some distant quarter of the sky,
And well our luckless hero might have deem'd,
That he to earthly things had bid good-bye;
For no one in their senses could have dream'd

Of such a journey. Here Dan gave a sigh ;
For now strait upward was the eagle speeding,
His prayers and lamentations little heeding.

16.

Still on they fled; and creature on the way,
Living or lifeless, to be found was none,
Except the Eagle and his rider; they
Pursued their airy voyage all alone;
But if the flight had happened in our day,

They might perhaps in company have gone
With Mr Wordsworth, who last year, I ween,
In crescent boat on the same track was seen.

17.

(You'll find his flight described in Peter Bell,

Published by Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, and Brown,

I own I like that poem passing well,

Though by your wits 'tis laughed at and cried down.

Cheer up, Great Poet, loud thy fame will swell,

When thy detractors' names shall be unknown,

When all forgotten is the tiny crew,

Who quiz thee in the Edinburgh Review.)

18.

Oh! what a view! how noble is the sight!

Beneath them stretch'd the broad and rock girt bay,
And broader ocean, sparkling with the light

Of thousand stars, soon far behind them lay.
Hungry's+ high head, and near it, dark as night,
Glangariffe's cliffs, and deep embowered way;
"Oh! Lord," says Dan, "unless my eyesight fail,
Yonder's the battery of ould Kinsale."

29.

Soon earth, and sea, and mountain high were gone,
Nought was below them but the scudding cloud,

And still the bird was journeying gaily on,

And Dan still wept his sad mishaps aloud;

• Whiddy, a handsome island in Bantry Bay.

Hungry-hill, a most unpoetical, though not inappropriate name, for a high hill in the south of the county of Cork.

Charles Fort. A map of the country (as recommended by Sir Walter Scott in his Lady of the Lake) would greatly assist the understanding of the exact bearing of the dif ferent places commemorated in this flight. It would appear that the road to the moon, from Bantry, in the Eagle's opinion, lay over Kinsale.