 | The Poems of Thomas Davis |  |
11
OH! FOR A STEED.
I
Oh! for a steed, a rushing steed, and a blazing scimitar,To hunt from beauteous Italy the Austrian's red hussar;
To mock their boasts,
And strew their hosts,
And scatter their flags afar.
II
Oh! for a steed, a rushing steed, and dear Poland gathered around,To smite her circle of savage foes, and smash them upon the ground;
Nor hold my hand
While, on the land,
A foreigner foe was found.
12
III
Oh! for a steed, a rushing steed, and a rifle that never failed,And a tribe of terrible prairie men, by desperate valour mailed,
Till “stripes and stars,”
And Russian czars,
Before the Red Indian quailed.
IV
Oh! for a steed, a rushing steed, on the plains of Hindustan,And a hundred thousand cavaliers, to charge like a single man,
Till our shirts were red,
And the English fled
Like a cowardly caravan.
V
Oh! for a steed, a rushing steed, with the Greeks at Marathon,Or a place in the Switzer phalanx, when the Morat men swept on,
Like a pine-clad hill
By an earthquake's will
Hurled the vallies upon.
13
VI
Oh! for a steed, a rushing steed, when Brian smote down the Dane,Or a place beside great Aodh O'Neill, when Bagenal the bold was slain,
Or a waving crest
And a lance in rest,
With Bruce upon Baunoch plain.
VII
Oh! for a steed, a rushing steed, on the Curragh of Kildare,And Irish squadrons skilled to do, as they are ready to dare—
A hundred yards,
And Holland's guards
Drawn up to engage me there.
VIII
Oh! for a steed, a rushing steed, and any good cause at all,Or else, if you will, a field on foot, or guarding a leaguered wall
For freedom's right;
In flushing fight
To conquer if then to fall.
| The Poems of Thomas Davis | |