Poems of James Clarence Mangan (Many hitherto uncollected): Centenary edition: Edited, with preface and notes by D. J. O'Donoghue: Introduction by John Mitchel |
 | I. |
WELCOME TO THE PRINCE OF OSSORY. |
 | II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
 | Poems of James Clarence Mangan |  |
63
WELCOME TO THE PRINCE OF OSSORY.
I
Lift . . . up the drooping head,Meehal Dubh Mac-Giolla-Kierin!
Her blood yet boundeth red
Through the myriad veins of Erin.
No! no! she is not dead,
Meehal Dubh Mac-Giolla-Kierin!
Lo! she redeems
The lost years of bygone ages—
New glory beams
Henceforth on her History's pages!
Her long penitential Night of Sorrow
Yields at length before the reddening Morrow!
II
You . . . heard the thunder-shout,Meehal Dubh Mac-Giolla-Kierin!
Saw lightning streaming out
O'er the purple hills of Erin!
And bide you yet in doubt,
Meehal Dubh Mac-Goilla-Kierin?
O! doubt no more!
Through Ulidia's voiceful valleys,
On . . . Shannon's shore,
Freedom's burning spirit rallies,
Earth and Heaven unite in sign and omen
Bodeful of the downfall of our foemen.
64
III
Thurot commands the North,Meehal Dubh Mac-Giolla-Kierin!
Louth sends her heroes forth
To hew down the foes of Erin!
Swords gleam in field and gorth,
Up! up! my friend!
There's a glorious goal before us;
Here will we blend
Speech and soul in this grand chorus—
“By the Heaven that gives us one more token,
We will die, or see our shackles broken!”
IV
Charles leaves the Grampian hills,Meehal Dubh Mac-Giolla-Kierin!
Charles, whose appeal yet thrills,
Like a clarion-blast, through Erin.
Charles, he whose image fills
Thy soul, too, Mac-Giolla-Kierin!
Ten . . . thousand strong,
His clans move in brilliant order,
Sure that e'er long
He will march them o'er the Border,
While the dark-haired daughters of the Highlands
Crown with wreaths the Monarch of three islands!
V
Fill, then, the ale-cup high,Meehal Dubh Mac-Giolla-Kierin!
Fill!—the bright hour is nigh
That shall give her own to Erin!
65
Even as you, Mac-Giolla-Kierin,
Henceforth shall sing.
Hark!—O'er heathery hill and dell come
Shouts for the King!
Welcome, our Deliverer! Welcome!
Thousands this glad night, ere turning bedward,
Will, with us, drink “Victory to Charles Edward!”
| Poems of James Clarence Mangan | |