Twas winter's depth, and deeper night,
When they commenced that dreary flight.
Safely they cross'd the Murdering glen,
And pass d Iveleragh's mountains-when,
High on the Lee M'Carthy stood-

(Oh! ever be the name a ban, That stain'd, with purest Irish blood,

The purest stream that ever ran.) Fierce was the conflict, short the fray, Bearhaven still pursued his way;

But not until his best had dyed,

With their heart's blood, that beauteous tide.

Still, on and on, thro' bog and brake,
Their lone and devious way they take;
Avoiding, ever, as they could,

The Saxon hounds who still pursued.
But-worse than Saxons-on the way,
Prompt to mislead, quick to betray,
Their own the fugitives way-lay.

Barry of Buttevant! accurst

The breast thy infancy hath nurst!
Accurst the womb that gave thee birth!

Accurst be every spot of earth

On which thy recreant foot hath trod !
Accurst of man! accurst of God!

Liscarrol! desert be thy hall!

Thy banner be a funeral pall!

Let dank weeds round thy portal creep!
And the wild-fox thy watch tower keep !

Be barbacan, and battlement,

By the red lightning's ravage rent,
That turn'd their ruthless batteries

On fugitives so lorn as these!

Wild was the flight, but bloody too—
And well may the assailants rue

That Parthian fight, where those who flew,
Scarce suffer more than who pursue.
At length, on Bally-houra's height,
Ceases the warfare and the flight :
And Limerick's wide, and fertile plains,
Receives them in its rich domains.

Here rest, a space, these way-worn men,
But destined, soon, to trace again

The mountain paths, where high Gaultee
Rises in barren majesty.

On Suir's delightful banks, awhile,
They hope to stay them from their toil,
And taste the hospitable cheer
Of the rich abbeys, rising near,
Whose cloistered fronts, reflected, lie
In the clear river gliding by.

But Cashel's rock was scarce discerned,
When Dhonal from an out-scout learn'd,
That, with strong force, he just had seen
Tipperary's Sheriff palatine.

Again, again, in flight they pour
Between Clanwilliam and the Suir;
And scarcely stay the monk to bless,
Who fed them in their sore distress.
On, on with quick'ning haste they pass,
'Till by thy shrine, old Terryglass,
The Shannon stopp'd their further course,
Whilst still, behind, a threatening force
Fiercely pursues : Oh! what must be
Resolved in this extremity ?

Before, in swollen majesty,

The Shannon spreads a mimic sea

Behind, the Sheriff furiously

Presses with horse and infantry.

He comes: But, see, in basket-boats,
Of wicker ribs, and horse's hide,
Dhonal his little remnant floats.,

In safety, o'er that swollen tide.
To Galway's shore uninjured borne,
They laugh the vain pursuit to scorn.
Well did the mountain horses stead
Their owners in the hour of need;
The skins convey'd them o'er the tide,
The flesh a welcome meal supplied.

*

On towards Clanrickard next they fled;
But, there, a strong and Royal force,
By Thomas Bourke and Malby led,
Fiercely oppose their further course.
Hope is no longer left in flight :
Now Dhonal! man thee for the fight.

Where a rude rock, in nature's sport,
Form'd on the spot a mimic fort,--
To which one only defile led,
Narrow and steep, whilst, overhead,
Dark woods in stern defiance lower,-
Dhonal entrench'd his lessen'd power.

Malby-brave Malby-who defied
All danger, first the pass-way tried :
Which, when O'Connor Kerry spied,
"Malby! my early friend!" he cried,
"Not a foot further, or your life
"Is victim to this desperate strife.
"My arquebuss was ever true,
"I would not prove its aim on you :
"I would not that your blood should rest
66 Upon the hand, which thine had pressed
"In friendships grasp. Let us have way,
"To where O'Rourke maintains his sway,
"Garran nor cow of thine shall stray.

"Down, rebels! with your arms, or die !"
Was fiery Malby's fierce reply;

"Down with your arms; yield to the Queen:

"Her clemency will then be seen."

"Her clemency!" stern Dhonal cried—
"Her clemency! Oh! you who died
"In ruin'd Dunboy! and you-whose blood
"Crimson'd the white foam of the flood
"That flows beneath it-speak for me,
"And tell the Saxon's Clemency!
"Fire! fire upon the murderous crew;
<< Hurra; O'Sullivan! aboo!*

The true-aim'd volley told too well,
And Malby, mid the foremost, fell;
Pity a heart so brave and high

In tyrant's cause should fight or die :-
But-see, the Saxon recreants fly!
"O'Connor! Tyrrel! Victory !"

In the hall of O'Rourke there is revel and feast,
And the minstrels are loud in their praise of the guest;
But strange are the echoes that fall on his ear,
Though his own welcome song to the wanderer is dear.

Dia bheatha, dia bheatha, dia bheatha, ad shlainte,
Dia bheatha ad shlainte a Ghradh geal mo stor;
Dia bheatha, dia bheatha, dia bheatha ad shlainte,
Dia bheatha ad shlainte Ui Shuilliobhain Mhoir.
Suilliobhain, Suilliobhain, Suilliobhain Bheara,
Suilliobhain, Suilliobhain, Sulliobhain Bheara;
Dia bheatha ad shlainte a Leinbh do Mhathar,
Dia bheatha ad shlainte Ui Shuilliobhain Mhoir.

The war cry of O'Sullivan Beare.

ON THE CHARACTER OF HAMLET.

Hamlet has no character--therefore it is that the part cannot be played. It wants individuality. He has attributes, but they belong not to him but to his kind; they take no hue, no aspect from his peculiar conformation or temperament. An actor's attempt to pourtray him must of necessity be a failure. It is a mingled dream of poetry, passion, and repose, blent into such indivisible combination, that any attempt to exhibit one quality, covers up and conceals the others.

Shakspeare himself had no conception of, did not contemplate a corporeal Hamlet, with earthly form and pressure. It is but "a beautiful thought and gently bodied forth;" an exquisite and matchless incongruity. The poet, in framing it, resigned himself to the play of his imagination, not swaying but swayed by its power or rather the vision created itself in his brain, without any effort of volition on his part to aid or shape the formation.

In the performance, the character of Hamlet varies through almost every scene. It is only in the mind of the reader that the poet, by some peculiar spell, contrives to preserve the individuality, and suggests to you some spiritualized and contemplative