'When the Lion shall lose its strength, And the bracket Thistle begin to pine, The Harp shall sound sweet, sweet, at length, Between the eight and the nine.'
Lonely Echtge still keeps old prophecies and old songs and some of the old speech, and but few newspapers are seen there; but on the lowland, sympathy with the Boers, and prophecies of their victory, are put into the doggerel English verse that must be poor in form, because a ballad, more than another song, must have a long tradition of folk-thought and folk-expression behind it; and in Ireland this tradition does not belong to the English language. Even the beautiful air of 'The Wearing of the Green' cannot give poetic charm to such verses as these, which, like the others that follow, have been sung and sold by ballad-singers in market-towns and at fairs, and at country race-meetings, during the last year:--
'Oh! Paddy dear, and did ye hear The news that's going round? No cheers for brave Paul Kruger Must be heard on Irish ground. No more the English tourist at Killarney will be seen, Unless you join the pirate's cause, And chant "God save the Queen."'
Or this other, sung during the siege of Ladysmith:--
'And I met with White the General, And he's looking thin enough; And he says the boys in Ladysmith Are running short of stuff. Faith, the dishes need no washing, Now they're left so nice and clean; Oh! it's anything but pleasant To be starving for the Queen!'
The defender of Ladysmith is treated with greater courtesy than some other generals, for, in spite of sympathy with the besiegers, the singer says:--
'But if he gave in to-morrow, I would not think it right To throw the least disparagement On a man like General White. He is making a bold resistance, As great as could be made, Against their deadly Mauser rifles, And their tremendous cannonade.'
The 'Song of the Transvaal Irish Brigade' has more literary quality:--
'The Cross swings low; the morn is near-- Now, comrades, fill up high; The cannon's voice will ring out clear When morning lights the sky. A toast we'll drink together, boys, Ere dawns the battle's grey, A toast to Ireland, dear old Ireland! Ireland far away! Ireland far away! Ireland far away! Health to Ireland, strength to Ireland! Ireland, boys, hurrah!