 | The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") |  |
65
THE LEGEND OF THE O'DONOGHUE.
The great O'Donoghue! he ruled the land around Lough Lean;
The tree-clad hills that kissed the clouds, and many a fertile plain;
And happy were his people all, for in that blessed day,
Harvest rewarded honest toil, and justice held its sway.
The tree-clad hills that kissed the clouds, and many a fertile plain;
And happy were his people all, for in that blessed day,
Harvest rewarded honest toil, and justice held its sway.
Content the peasant in his cot, his tenure fixed and sure;
No Duine Uasal dared oppress the honest, worthy poor;
Each had his right, and leaned thereon; he reverenced king and law—
O'Donoghue gave the good his love, and kept the bad in awe.
No Duine Uasal dared oppress the honest, worthy poor;
Each had his right, and leaned thereon; he reverenced king and law—
O'Donoghue gave the good his love, and kept the bad in awe.
The king a feast to vassals gave upon the first of May,
And gallant knights and ladies fair were gathered there that day;
And Conn, the white-haired harper, sat in honor nigh the king,
The daring deeds of warlike knights and damsels' charms to sing.
And gallant knights and ladies fair were gathered there that day;
And Conn, the white-haired harper, sat in honor nigh the king,
The daring deeds of warlike knights and damsels' charms to sing.
Majestic sat O'Donoghue amid the glittering throng,
And gazed well-pleased upon the scene, and listened to the song;
But suddenly his gladness passed, he drooped his noble head;
And then, while all around were hushed, these startling words he said:
And gazed well-pleased upon the scene, and listened to the song;
But suddenly his gladness passed, he drooped his noble head;
And then, while all around were hushed, these startling words he said:
66
“The gift of prophecy is mine—ah! would it were not so!
My sight beholds a thousand years with all their scenes of woe.
Where now four potent monarchs rule, with one the chief of all,
The stranger shall usurp their power and hold the land in thrall.
My sight beholds a thousand years with all their scenes of woe.
Where now four potent monarchs rule, with one the chief of all,
The stranger shall usurp their power and hold the land in thrall.
“What follies, crimes and misery shall darken all the land;
Wrong sitting in the highest place and modest virtue banned;
The fierce invader break the oaks whose trunks he may not bend,
And men, grown wolves, with eager fangs their brothers' throats shall rend.
Wrong sitting in the highest place and modest virtue banned;
The fierce invader break the oaks whose trunks he may not bend,
And men, grown wolves, with eager fangs their brothers' throats shall rend.
“It will not be that Irish hearts or Irish courage fail;
It will not be through sword alone the stranger shall prevail;
But bitter feud and warring kings and treachery and sin
Shall tear the bonds of love apart, and aid the foe to win.
It will not be through sword alone the stranger shall prevail;
But bitter feud and warring kings and treachery and sin
Shall tear the bonds of love apart, and aid the foe to win.
“By Irish hands shall Ireland fall, and not through alien blows;
False sons shall thrust their mother forth, and profit by her woes;
By venal wretches, in their greed, a people shall be sold,
And Esau yield his birthright for a title and for gold.
False sons shall thrust their mother forth, and profit by her woes;
By venal wretches, in their greed, a people shall be sold,
And Esau yield his birthright for a title and for gold.
“The world shall see from year to year, however men may strive,
The patriot on the gibbet die, the spy and traitor thrive,
The cabins lone and desolate, the castles ivy-grown,
The priests before the altar slain, the churches overthrown.
The patriot on the gibbet die, the spy and traitor thrive,
The cabins lone and desolate, the castles ivy-grown,
The priests before the altar slain, the churches overthrown.
67
“Famine shall smite the stricken land, and fever burn and slay;
The best and bravest of our sons to distant climes will stray;
And Ireland's valor, learning, wit, all other lands shall stir,
And give them progress and renown, but not, alas! for her.
The best and bravest of our sons to distant climes will stray;
And Ireland's valor, learning, wit, all other lands shall stir,
And give them progress and renown, but not, alas! for her.
“So shall our race endure a fate of agony and tears;
The stranger's yoke shall gird its neck for twice five hundred years;
Then, right shall be a thing of might, and wrong be stricken low,
And conscience strike on Pharaoh's heart to let our people go.
The stranger's yoke shall gird its neck for twice five hundred years;
Then, right shall be a thing of might, and wrong be stricken low,
And conscience strike on Pharaoh's heart to let our people go.
“Ah, then! what blessings shall be hers, our Erin green and fair!
No longer war, no longer hate, but peace and concord there;
The hum of busy industry make music to the ear,
The hammers clink, the shuttles whir through all the thriving year.
No longer war, no longer hate, but peace and concord there;
The hum of busy industry make music to the ear,
The hammers clink, the shuttles whir through all the thriving year.
“Obey my son; but as for me, I may not see this woe;
From hence, till right is might again, O'Donoghue will go;
But once in every hundred years my presence here shall be,
And those alone whose hearts are true may hope to gaze on me.”
From hence, till right is might again, O'Donoghue will go;
But once in every hundred years my presence here shall be,
And those alone whose hearts are true may hope to gaze on me.”
He ceased, and, striding from the hall, while they were still with fear,
He reached the strand and walked alone upon the waters clear;
His stately figure all could see, touched with the sunset light,
Receding till the twilight mists had hidden it from sight.
He reached the strand and walked alone upon the waters clear;
His stately figure all could see, touched with the sunset light,
Receding till the twilight mists had hidden it from sight.
68
And now, in every hundred years, those who are pure indeed
May see the great O'Donoghue upon his milk-white steed.
He sits there at there at the water's edge, as in his manhood's prime,
And looks, and shakes his head, and says: “Too soon! it is not time!”
May see the great O'Donoghue upon his milk-white steed.
He sits there at there at the water's edge, as in his manhood's prime,
And looks, and shakes his head, and says: “Too soon! it is not time!”
Then, wheeling round his courser good, the surface o'er he glides,
Lost in the mist that settles down from Toomies' lofty sides,
While floats a strain of music, like a melancholy wail,
Above the murmurs of the wave and sighing of the gale.
Lost in the mist that settles down from Toomies' lofty sides,
While floats a strain of music, like a melancholy wail,
Above the murmurs of the wave and sighing of the gale.
But when the thousand years have gone, upon the placid lake
All men shall see O'Donoghue his joyous progress make;
His horse's hoofs shall touch again Killarney's grassy shore,
And Ireland cast her burden off, and rule herself once more.
All men shall see O'Donoghue his joyous progress make;
His horse's hoofs shall touch again Killarney's grassy shore,
And Ireland cast her burden off, and rule herself once more.
| The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") | |