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 | Ballads of Irish chivalry |  |
MARY LOMBARD.
I
My iron gyves were rusty grown,So long I lay in thrall,
Down in my dungeon dark and lone,
'Neath Kilnamulla's wall.
II
My heavy chains at first were bright,But rust had dimmed them o'er,
When an angel came in the dead of night,
And opened my dungeon door!
III
Was never face so heavenly fair,As her's who let me go,
The lady of the sun-bright hair,
The daughter of my foe.
87
IV
She came as if from Heaven to me,—In the dead of night to my lair,—
And sped me to my own countrie,
My Mary Lombard fair!
V
When next where Kilnamulla rearsHer towers now black and stern,
'Twas hosting with broad Thomond's spears,
With Murrogh of the Fern.
VI
Through Desmond's plains with vengeful swordsWe carried war and flame,
And woe to all the Norman hordes,
Where'er great Murrogh came.
VII
And all around that fated townOur warriors thronged full fain,
Till turret-stone and gate went down,
Before their charge amain.
VIII
Like a great flood, with flame and blood,We rushed through the breach's bound,
While roof and spire were wrapt in fire,
Lighting the carnage round!
88
IX
'Twas the gloom of night on the far-off height,'Twas the glare of hell round me,
As I stood before my foeman's door,
His daughter fair to see.
X
My foeman lay in the burning way,His fond wife dying there,
And my Mary dear, wild with woe and fear,
I found on the great hall stair.
XI
I clasped her in my arms, and thenQuick bore her down the street,
Through the rushing men, to the eastward glen,
Where I left my war-horse fleet.
XII
A sudden madness seized my brain,And away I dashed, away,
With my trembling love towards my native plain
By castle and mountain gray!
XIII
Kilmallock's wall rose stark and tallOn our course so wild and fast,
And the castle of Brugh frowned grimly through
The darkness as we passed.
XIV
At the morning's beam fair Shannon's streamA long length spread before:
I cared not its length, for love gave me strength,
And I swam my war-horse o'er!
89
XV
Away again, by valley and wild plain,Away through each torrent's foam,
Where the mountains rise, with my glorious maiden prize,
Till I reached my castled home.
XVI
One clasp I gave to my sad and sorrowing love,One word to my mother said,
And back, my loyalty to prove,
To Murrogh's host I sped.
XVII
Many a day, and many a weary night,And many a battle tough and stern,
I saw far, far from my true love bright,
With Murrogh of the Fern.
XVIII
And when he wore the crown of each plain and town,To my home at length I bore,
But my mother made her moan in its sad hall alone,
For my Mary was sleeping evermore!
XIX
Oh! my bright, tender flower, ever sat within her bower,Her mother and slain sire to mourn,
'Till sorrow quenched love's light, though it flamed up so bright,
And she died, oh! she died, ere my return!
XX
We laid her in her grave, where moans the mournful wave,—Oh! my long-loved and hard-earned bride!
There each day my watch I keep, and for ever long to sleep
By my Mary Lombard's side!
In the year 1367 Murrogh na Ranagh, or Murrogh of the Fern, King of Thomond, issued from his fastnesses and destroyed nearly all the Norman strongholds in Munster; and after proclaiming himself King of the province, again crossed the Shannon. Buttevant, or as it was anciently called, Kilnamulla, was burnt and sacked by his forces in this war.
| Ballads of Irish chivalry | |