Ballads of Irish chivalry By Robert Dwyer Joyce: Edited, with Annotations, by his brother P. W. Joyce |
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 | Ballads of Irish chivalry |  |
VI.
In sooth, his prayer was not in vain,
For, ere one hour, o'er hill and plain
Full many an eager gillie trode,
And many a rushing easlach rode,
Till twilight, when on tower and mount
A hundred war-fires you might count.
Old Carrick town rang loud next morn
With roll of drum and bray of horn,
For from each forest, plain, and glynn,
The clansmen all had gathered in.
For, ere one hour, o'er hill and plain
Full many an eager gillie trode,
And many a rushing easlach rode,
Till twilight, when on tower and mount
A hundred war-fires you might count.
Old Carrick town rang loud next morn
With roll of drum and bray of horn,
For from each forest, plain, and glynn,
The clansmen all had gathered in.
Then Butler issued from his hall
Among his gallant clansmen all,
And straightway took the southern track,
While we rode gayly at his back;
And never his charger rested he
By cross of road or fount or plain,
Until he reached, where, broad and strong,
Blackwater rushes by crag and tree,
With plaintive roar or gladsome song,
'Mid the bonnic woods of wild Affane.
Within those woods we camped that night,
And waited but the morning light
To fall upon proud Desmond's path,
And on his raiders vent our wrath.
Among his gallant clansmen all,
And straightway took the southern track,
While we rode gayly at his back;
And never his charger rested he
By cross of road or fount or plain,
Until he reached, where, broad and strong,
Blackwater rushes by crag and tree,
41
'Mid the bonnic woods of wild Affane.
Within those woods we camped that night,
And waited but the morning light
To fall upon proud Desmond's path,
And on his raiders vent our wrath.
| Ballads of Irish chivalry | |