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Ballads of Irish chivalry

By Robert Dwyer Joyce: Edited, with Annotations, by his brother P. W. Joyce

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XI.

There, on a green and mossy stone,
A young bright maiden stood alone
Gazing upon the foam-wreaths white
That sparkled on their pathway rude,
And ne'er was seen a fairer sight.
Methought that maiden, as she stood,
Some phantom, or a vision bright,
Or lovely spirit of the wood.
A moment—I was standing there
Beside that maid so young and fair;
A moment—and my heart was gone
With her bright face and sunny hair;
And ah! so sweet her blue eyes shone,
'Twas lost ere I was half aware.
A moment—for time went so fleet,
Long hours had minutes been to me—
And in that lone and wild retreat
There we were talking pleasantly.
I told her how in their strong tower
A prisoner I had lain,
And how I longed for that glad hour
When I might 'scape their chain;
And found she was a captive too,
For three long years,—
A captive from that sweet land where,
Above the blooming woods of Caher,
Wild Galty to the skies so blue
Its tall crest rears.