poietrn.

Fron EAe Ffseaan's 1suvaaL o,coNNELL's HEART.
{"character_count": 2198, "word_count": 376, "ccnet_language_score": [0.9067999720573425], "ccnet_perplexity": [1313.0999755859375], "fasttext_language": ["en"]}


 Bear it on teaderiy.-

 Slowly. and moafnfully,- That heart of . nation which paises no more The fount that gushed ever with feedomS higA iore.-- ThFouEh years over Erin. it brooded and wept, It watched while she slambersd. and prayed when she wept; And the saxon ragged on. that their chains had nes crushed The souls of a people. whose harp they had hush.d

 Bear fl on tende4ly-

 Slowly, and fnouTnfnIly,- 'Trss broken ai iass-when the famine plagnss gIsive, And the spade turned the shamrock. in grave aitsr When the angels Of God, turned weeping away From the want stricken earth, and its famishinS And the wall of the dying. which rese from the sod; The dying those martyrs 10 Faith and their Cod Came like the wild kneli. Of its hopes farest dsy. Is il strange, that its hfe;ids ebbed quickly awas'

 Bear it on tenderly.-

 Slowly, and moHrnfuliy,- Oh God how Il struggled 10 burst the vile chain, That fettered thee Erin.--hut struggled in vain How humble to God. to the Saxon what scorn, To thy friends, true and loving thy foes proud and stern How strong, like a barrier of angels 1t sieod, Crying 'Jusics, struggle for astire-not bicod, And in Christ's lovely name, ehided back the mad throngs That indignant were thirsting for blood for their wrongs.

 Bear it on tenderiys--

 Slowly. and mournfuIly,-- From Erin's sad inset. to Italys light. Where the sunshine of glory has sprung from the night, Where the goiden-eyed spirit of Freedoms new birth, Aroused by voice, which thrills through the earth Will with the fair angels, keep vigis sfoand thee, Rejoicing. that freed from the feiiess that bound thee, Released from Life's anguish.-its watching. its weeping, It scars far beyond, where its ashes are sleeping

 Yes-bear it on tenderly,--

 Slowly. and mournfuilY,-- From Lough Foyle's dark waters to Shannon's broad wave. To the rough Munster coast. which the Ocean tides lave, Comes sad notc of wailing it swelis ike the sea. It sounds from the hll-tops, and shFieks OCT the lea: Oh Erin, Oh Erin. what hast thou done, That the light should be plotted away from thy sun, Thy Faith be edown-trodden-thy blessings all ice. And thy rns, and thy daughters, be martyred with thee