IRISH POKTKV. 



(Al)stracl of paper read before the Inslitule) 



RV TKOF. JOHN KUSSEU. HAYES. 



I am to address your honorable society this evening up(jn 

 Ireland, — Ireland, the kindly land, the land of warm hearts 

 and tender greetings, the fair (xreen Island so passionately 

 beloved by her children in all parts of the world, — Ireland, the 

 last home of the fairies, the last abiding-place of imagination 

 and beauty and romance, — Ireland, trampled under the heel of 

 British injustice through the centuries and winning anguished 

 tears of sympathy from every lover of liberty ; and yet, in spite 

 of her wrongs, Ireland, the home forever of mirth and wistful 

 humor, and of the pathos which is sister of the finest humor. 



At its best, Irish Poetry is surpassed by the songs of no 

 land for its fire and intensity. The music of the old Irish 

 songs can never be forgotten by those who have heard its wild 

 and mournful cadences crooned by old women who remember 

 the Gaelic speech of their fathers. 



The old Irish speech is unhappily not common, save in the 

 western parts of the island. At Oxford and at Dublin one 

 may study Irish literature ; l)ut among the folk, from Donegal 

 to Kerry, there are not many who can recite the ancient epic 

 poetry, or the wondrous fairy legends', in the olden native 

 language. The Knglish commissioners of education, filled 

 with the idea of Imperialism, have performetl the pious labor of 

 stamping out Ciaelic from the schools, thereby doing immeas- 

 urable wrong to the grand ancient song, and fairy and folk 

 literature of Ireland. 



linglish poetry written in Ireland is no new thing. Edmund 

 Spenser composed his "Faerie Queeiie " amid the lovely 

 scenery around his Castle of Kilcolman in County Cork. To 

 lovers of this nol)le epic there is a fascination in thinking of 

 Spenser dreaming his great pageant of Christian knighthood 



