Ballads of Irish chivalry By Robert Dwyer Joyce: Edited, with Annotations, by his brother P. W. Joyce |
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THE WATERFALL. |
 | Ballads of Irish chivalry |  |
THE WATERFALL.
I
Where the moss-bronzed oaks are toweringBy the rude rock's hoary wall,
Into a chasm with sudden spasm
Rusheth the waterfall:
Breaking its prison thrall,
Bursting its rocky bar,
Its voice rolls loud from the bright spray cloud,
Over the hills afar.
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II
All through the flame-browed summer'Twas but a tiny stream:
Brown autumn gave the swelling wave,
And the fierce and fiery gleam.
O wanderer, you would deem
That a bright-eyed monster there
Rushed out on thee with a roar of glee,
Wild from his forest lair.
III
It springeth far in the uplands,That torrent swift and rude,
And rolls along with its ancient song
Through the deep solitude;
Then between sedgy banks,
Down from the rugged clift,
With a sudden sweep it taketh its leap
Into that caverned rift.
IV
It boils and writhes and hissesAs it leapeth down amain,
And its deaf'ning roar shakes the mountain hoar
Like a Titan's yell of pain.
Then darting on again
Swiftly its brown waves go,
Winding away in their rippling play,
Through the widening vales below.
| Ballads of Irish chivalry | |