afterwards. I asked for some food, and
while it was being prepared I wrote the following lines on a blank leaf
of a book belonging to my dead friend:--

Bliss to thy spirit, gentlest maid,
Fond, faithful and beloved; how oft,
Within the circle of this glowing glade,
Our mingling souls had soared aloft;
And wooed the knowledge of our destiny--
What is it? I a fugitive, and thou on high.

Yet hopeless of the land I'd save,
Nay, spurned by those for whom I'd die,
Unknown where your fond welcome gave,
There's still a throb of ecstasy.
Even though the latest I may feel on earth.
In lingering o'er the scene where thou hadst birth.

Where wrapt by evening's crimson flush,
We hoped, and felt, and breathed together,
Beside the broad Suir's silent gush,
Or resting on yon mountain heather;
And dared to look beyond the narrow span,
That circumscribed the hope of man.

How sweet, if from the blessed spheres,
Thou didst bestow one look of love,
To cheer the hearts and dry the tears
Of those whose only hope's above;
And win, beloved one, from the throne of light,
One saving ray for our long slavery's night.

Or if this may not be, and yet
Her old doom clings unto the land;
If on her brow the brand be set,
And she must bear the chastening hand
For longer years, O grant, sweet saint, to me,
To die as if my arm had made her free.

GLENN, _August 3, 1848._

I left Glenn next morning, with still some hope remaining, and sought
out my friend to learn his success and prospects. He came, according to
appointment, to a farmer's house in the direction of Rathgormack,
bringing with him James Stephens, who was destined to be thenceforth the
companion of my wanderings, privations and dangers. He detailed to us,
nearly as I have repeated it, the affair at Ballingarry. When he
reached the village of Urlingford, he found some difficulty in escaping
from the very men he hoped to lead back to the conflict. After vainly
making every effort first to urge them on, and secondly to satisfy them
of his own identity, he travelled a distance of thirty miles, and took
shelter in the house of a private friend, where he hoped he could remain
until something definite would be known of his comrades' fate. That his
stay was not of long duration, his appearance with us on Thursday, forty
miles from the place of his concealment,