i84 LIFE IN IRELAND 



SIR SHAWN O'DOGHERTY^S SONG, 

 EVELINA 



TRANSLATED FROM THE ORKxINAL IRISH OF CAROLIN. 



Tune— 'Phelim O'Shea." 



On the brow of the valley the white hawthorn hung, 

 On its blossoms I saw the first blush of the day ; 



The morning delightful, gay, charming, and young, 

 Kiss'd the rose, and laughed on us the season of May. 



Rise, rise, Evelina, thou soul of my muse, 



More lovely than morning's first blushes, arise ; 



More sweet than the rifled rose weeping in dews, 

 More lovely than it when it bends to the skies. 



Rise, rise, Evelina, and cross the bright fountain. 

 Where sweetly the heathbells are blooming around ; 



For the strawberry thy lover will climb the high mountain, 

 For the nut rob the hazle upon the low ground. 



For thee will he twine a soft wreath of wild flowers. 

 To thee every fruit of the season he '11 bring ; 



For thee strike the harp in the gay smiling hours. 

 When each warbling bird thy praises shall sing. 



The swan's silver plumage is dark to thy bosom. 



The azure of heaven is dim to thine hair ; 

 The pure infant loves in thine eyes are reposing. 



Surrounded by pleasures, — so sparkling and fair. 



Then rise, Evelina, thou soul of my muse, 

 More lovely than morn in her blushes arise ; 



More sweet than the rifled rose rifled in dews. 

 More modest than it when it bends to the skies. 



Sir Shawn O'Dogherty got much applause for his 

 skilful execution of so pleasing and powerful a national 

 air : the tribute thus given, gentle reader, was as much 



