NEW WHOLESALE
AND RETAIL
LEATHER STORE,
BACK OF THE CHURCH.
To my friends
and the
public generally, I beg to say, I have this
day commenced
Sale in the above line, and from my
knowledge
of the Trade, together with the fact that all my
Stock
has been purchased for CASH, I fancy I will be able
to
give fully as good an article as any other House in
the
Trade.
GEORGE
W. BEATTIE.
Lurgan,
16h
August, 1849.
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THE SUBSCRIBER offers
for Sale at his Stores, in
PORTADOWN, from
25 to 30 Tons of Fresh
Old Oats,
of superior
quality,
well adapted for Feeding purposes, which he will
Sell
on moderate terms.
CHARLES M'CORMICK.
Portadown,
15th August, 1849.
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THE FAITHFUL ONE.
Far
away--Far away,
to the land of
the
stranger,
A young maiden
hastes,
Fearless of
danger;
She has
crossed the
wide ocean,
And braved the
dread
billow,
In a far
foreign land,
To repose on
her pillow,
And
dream of the days yet to come.
In the land
of the
"free,"
Far away to
the westward,
She seeks a
fond home
With the last
of her
kindred.--
Still onward
she wanders--
Her young
heart is
broken,
Ah ! see, she
is gazing
On a cherished
love
token,
From
one in her late island home.
As lonely
she journeys
O'er prairie
and mountain,
Her thoughts
still
return
To that old
gushing
fountain,
Whose bright
waters
never
From fountain
came
purer,
Than those
sweet vows
she gave
To the youth
who allured
her,
And
thus her soul murmurs alone.
"Farewell
to thee,
false one--
For happier I
find
me,
Than e'er thou
can'st
be
When thy
memory reminds
thee.--
Though my fond
heart
is breaking--
Alas! 'tis so
now--
Still I
love--Oh !
how dearly
I cherish that
vow,
Which I
joyfully gave for your own.
The cypress
and laurel
Weep over the
tomb,
Where this
dear one
reposes
In death's
silent
gloom;
'Twas the hand
of
a stranger
That closed
her dark
eyes.--
'Twas the ear
of a
stranger
Received her
last
sighs,
Breathed for one far away, now unknown.
Some
false-hearted
lover
Who lured to
betray,
Had won her
affections
In that isle
far away,--
She died
without leaving
One trace of
his name,
But his false
heart
shall wither,
In sorrow and
shame,
When he
thinks of the wrong he has done.
W. LOUGHLIN,
Tanaghmore,
July,
1849.
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