The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") | ||
OWEN ROE'S VOW.
Lord Talbot rode at even forth
With fifty merry men,
And as the darkness lower fell,
Swept through the Wizard's Glen.
With fifty merry men,
And as the darkness lower fell,
Swept through the Wizard's Glen.
Through straight ravine, past treacherous bog,
Their steps to safely guide,
A peasant, in a russet coat,
Rode by Lord Talbot's side.
Their steps to safely guide,
A peasant, in a russet coat,
Rode by Lord Talbot's side.
No sound was heard but tramp of hoofs,
When sudden, left and right,
Broke forth, with startling discord there,
The voices of the night.
When sudden, left and right,
Broke forth, with startling discord there,
The voices of the night.
Pierced through the sombre shade around
The hooting of the owl;
And in the distance far was heard
The wild wolf's fearful howl.
The hooting of the owl;
And in the distance far was heard
The wild wolf's fearful howl.
56
“These ominous sounds,” Lord Talbot said,
“Are not for us, I know;
They bode the fall of him and his,
The outlaw, Owen Roe.
“Are not for us, I know;
They bode the fall of him and his,
The outlaw, Owen Roe.
“Too long a terror to the Pale,
His course will soon be run;
We'll root the breed, and scotch the seed,
Before to-morrow's sun—
His course will soon be run;
We'll root the breed, and scotch the seed,
Before to-morrow's sun—
“Both him and his, the comely wife,
The children young and fair,
The very babe that hugs the breast;
Nor sex, nor age, we'll spare.”
The children young and fair,
The very babe that hugs the breast;
Nor sex, nor age, we'll spare.”
“I know, Lord Talbot,” quoth the guide,
“Your lordship's manner well;
And how, a score of years ago,
Your wrath on wretches fell.
“Your lordship's manner well;
And how, a score of years ago,
Your wrath on wretches fell.
“The band of Cormac Roe O'Neil,
A hundred gallant men,
With you four times their number met
Within the Wizard's Glen.
A hundred gallant men,
With you four times their number met
Within the Wizard's Glen.
“One-third your men you lost that day;
One-half of his were slain;
You promised ‘grace’ if they would yield—
The terms they made were plain.
One-half of his were slain;
You promised ‘grace’ if they would yield—
The terms they made were plain.
“A little space beyond it is—
We'll reach ere long the place
Where Cormac and his sons were killed,
Exempted from the ‘grace.’
We'll reach ere long the place
Where Cormac and his sons were killed,
Exempted from the ‘grace.’
57
“You spared the wife, but when she begged
Her sons' lives, bending low,
At least the fair-haired youngster there,
You sternly answered, ‘No!’
Her sons' lives, bending low,
At least the fair-haired youngster there,
You sternly answered, ‘No!’
“She saw them die on gallows tree,
And said: ‘For this, thy sin,
I have another son, who'll wash
His hands thy blood within.’”
And said: ‘For this, thy sin,
I have another son, who'll wash
His hands thy blood within.’”
“You know the tale?” Lord Talbot cried,
As quick his rein he drew;
“None heard the woman's words save me;
Who, peasant, then are you?”
As quick his rein he drew;
“None heard the woman's words save me;
Who, peasant, then are you?”
He raised his good sword as he spake,
And smote, but missed his mark;
The peasant swerved his horse aside,
And vanished in the dark.
And smote, but missed his mark;
The peasant swerved his horse aside,
And vanished in the dark.
What sound is that? The raven's cry!
Whoever yet had heard
Within the murky gloom of night,
The croaking of the bird?
Whoever yet had heard
Within the murky gloom of night,
The croaking of the bird?
That was the cry of Owen Roe—
The signal of his wrath:
The men-at-arms their horses reined
Within the narrow path,
The signal of his wrath:
The men-at-arms their horses reined
Within the narrow path,
For sudden came, in front and rear,
A mass of eager foes,
And these, within the rock-walled gorge,
Upon the horseman close.
A mass of eager foes,
And these, within the rock-walled gorge,
Upon the horseman close.
58
A wall of pikes, before, behind,
Steep cliffs on either hand—
“Stand steady! strike the rascal kerns!”
Was Talbot's vain command.
Steep cliffs on either hand—
“Stand steady! strike the rascal kerns!”
Was Talbot's vain command.
As well strike wasps upon the wing,
As men in such a space;
As one went down ten others came,
Eager to fill his place.
As men in such a space;
As one went down ten others came,
Eager to fill his place.
Great rocks were hurled from heights above,
Came thrusts of pikes below;
And vainly the beleaguered men,
Dealt fiercely blow on blow.
Came thrusts of pikes below;
And vainly the beleaguered men,
Dealt fiercely blow on blow.
Not one of all the men-at-arms
Who rode at eve of day,
Hemmed in, and barred on every side,
Escaped the fatal fray.
Who rode at eve of day,
Hemmed in, and barred on every side,
Escaped the fatal fray.
Lord Talbot there alone was left;
“Come on, vile knaves!” cried he.
“Stay!” said a voice; “you've dealt with them:
Their leader leave to me!”
“Come on, vile knaves!” cried he.
“Stay!” said a voice; “you've dealt with them:
Their leader leave to me!”
With that a form came from the dark,
Full-armed from top to toe.
“You asked just now who I might be;
Learn I am Owen Roe.
Full-armed from top to toe.
“You asked just now who I might be;
Learn I am Owen Roe.
“My kinsmen's blood cries from the ground,
And racks this heart of mine;
It will not cease till I have washed
My hands in blood of thine.”
And racks this heart of mine;
It will not cease till I have washed
My hands in blood of thine.”
59
Quick there a dozen torches blazed,
Not one who held them stirred—
As moveless they as cliffs around,
And no one spake a word.
Not one who held them stirred—
As moveless they as cliffs around,
And no one spake a word.
No sound to break the stillness there,
Except the clash of steel,
So stern was each, and scant of speech,
Intent their blows to deal.
Except the clash of steel,
So stern was each, and scant of speech,
Intent their blows to deal.
There stood the living men at bay,
The living men around,
And, in their ghastly stillness, lay
The dead men on the ground.
The living men around,
And, in their ghastly stillness, lay
The dead men on the ground.
Lord Talbot's treacherous weapon broke;
Its fragments flew apart,
As Owen's blade relentlessly
Pierced through his foeman's heart.
Its fragments flew apart,
As Owen's blade relentlessly
Pierced through his foeman's heart.
Then, thrusting in the welling blood
His hands, he bathed them both—
“Now, mother, rest in peace,” he said,
“Thy son has kept his oath.”
His hands, he bathed them both—
“Now, mother, rest in peace,” he said,
“Thy son has kept his oath.”
Since then four hundred years have gone;
Yet glooms the Wizard's Glen;
But never has that lonely spot
Seen deed of blood again.
Yet glooms the Wizard's Glen;
But never has that lonely spot
Seen deed of blood again.
Nettles and night-shade grow therein;
Moss forms on tree and stone;
But where Lord Talbot's blood was spilled,
The grass has never grown.
Moss forms on tree and stone;
But where Lord Talbot's blood was spilled,
The grass has never grown.
60
And whoso watches in the place,
That same night of the year,
The spectral torches' light may see,
The clash of blades may hear.
That same night of the year,
The spectral torches' light may see,
The clash of blades may hear.
The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") | ||