1891-92.] 3^9 



the kindly farmer who now tills the former residence of princes. 

 The hill was now ascended to Dunagore, and the beautiful 

 little Church visited, close to whose walls a simple tablet records 

 the fact that Sir Samuel Ferguson, the sweet singer of Ulster, 

 sleeps beneath, in the spot he had long thought of even when 

 residing at a distance, and when he had choice of a grander 

 sepulchre, for in his ode on Westminster Abbey he sings : — 



Yet hold not lightly home, nor yet 

 The graves on Dunagore forgot 5 

 Nor grudge the stone-gilt stall to change 

 For humble bench of Gorman's Grange. 



The people of Belfast have never properly estimated the ability 

 and worth of Sir Samuel Ferguson, who was born and educated 

 in their midst, and who dearly loved every hill and valley of 

 " Sweet Dalaradia." His love for Ireland was true, and in the 

 political excitement of 1845 his muse burst forth in the strong 

 Scottish vernacular of his Northern home, when he wrote : — 



Lord, for ae day o' service done her, 



Lord, for ane hour's sunlight upon her, 



Here, fortune take warld's wealth and honour — 



You're no my debtor. 

 Let me but rive ae link asunder 



O' Erin's fetter. 



Let me but help to shape the sentence 

 Will put the pith o' independence 

 O' self-respect in self-acquaintance 



And manly pride, 

 Intil auld Ebor Scots descendants 



Take a' beside. 



Let me but help to get the truth) 

 Set fast in ilka brother's mouth, 

 Whatever accent, n.jrth or south, 



His tongue may use ; 

 And then ambition, riches, youth — 



Take which you choose. 



Some good rubbings were taken of the two or three fine 

 sculptured stones in the graveyard, and the peculiar old vault 

 that did duty in the times when medical students had some 



