Page:History of Charles Jones, the footman (1).pdf/22

 He tried each art, reprov'd each dull delay,

Allur'd to brighter worlds, and led the way.

Beside the bed where parting life was laid,

And sorrow, guilt, and pain, by turns dismay'd,

The reverend champion stood. At his control,

Despair and anguish fled the struggling soul;

Comfort came down the trembling wretch to raise,

And his last-faultoring accents whisper'd praise.

At church, with meek and unaffected grace,

His looks adorn'd the venerable place;

Truth from his lips prevail'd with double sway,

And fools, who came to scoff, remain'd to pray.

The service past, around the pious man,

With ready zeal each honest rustic ran;

Even children follow'd with endearing wile,

And pluck'd this gown to share the good man's smile.

His ready smile a parent's warmth exprest,

Their welfare pleas'd him, and their caroscares [sic] distrostdistresed [sic];

To them his heart, his love, his griefs were given,

But all his serious thoughts had rest in Heaven.

As some tall cliff that lifts its awful form,

Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm,

Tho' round its breast the rolling clouds are spread,

Eternal sunshine settles on its head.

BIG JACK JOYCE.

If the reader will look at the map of Galway, and cast his eye to the upper part of "the Kingdom of Connemara"—a country so wild and desolate, that it is said when St. Patrick ascended the mountain known as Croagh Patrick, and a famous place of pilgrimage for devotees from all parts of Ireland,