Poems of James Clarence Mangan (Many hitherto uncollected): Centenary edition: Edited, with preface and notes by D. J. O'Donoghue: Introduction by John Mitchel |
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THE GERALDINE'S DAUGHTER. |
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 | Poems of James Clarence Mangan |  |
74
THE GERALDINE'S DAUGHTER.
A beauty all stainless, a pearl of a maiden,
Has plunged me in trouble, and wounded my heart;
With sorrow and gloom is my soul overladen,
An anguish is there that will never depart.
I would voyage to Egypt across the deep water,
Nor care about bidding dear Eirè farewell,
So I only might gaze on the Geraldine's daughter,
And sit by her side in some green, pleasant dell!
Has plunged me in trouble, and wounded my heart;
With sorrow and gloom is my soul overladen,
An anguish is there that will never depart.
I would voyage to Egypt across the deep water,
Nor care about bidding dear Eirè farewell,
So I only might gaze on the Geraldine's daughter,
And sit by her side in some green, pleasant dell!
Her curling locks wave round her figure of lightness,
All dazzling and long, like the purest of gold;
Her blue eyes resemble twin stars in their brightness,
And her brow is like marble or wax to behold.
The radiance of heaven illumines her features
Where the snows and the rose have erected their throne;
It would seem that the sun had forgotten all creatures,
To shine on the Geraldine's daughter alone.
All dazzling and long, like the purest of gold;
Her blue eyes resemble twin stars in their brightness,
And her brow is like marble or wax to behold.
The radiance of heaven illumines her features
Where the snows and the rose have erected their throne;
It would seem that the sun had forgotten all creatures,
To shine on the Geraldine's daughter alone.
Her bosom is swan-white, her waist smooth and slender;
Her speech is like music, so sweet and so fair;
The feelings that glow in her noble heart lend her
A mien and a majesty lovely to see.
Her lips, red as berries, but riper than any,
Would kiss away even a sorrow like mine!
No wonder such heroes and noblemen many
Should cross the blue ocean to kneel at her shrine.
Her speech is like music, so sweet and so fair;
The feelings that glow in her noble heart lend her
A mien and a majesty lovely to see.
Her lips, red as berries, but riper than any,
Would kiss away even a sorrow like mine!
No wonder such heroes and noblemen many
Should cross the blue ocean to kneel at her shrine.
She is sprung from the Geraldine race, the great Grecians,
Niece of Mileadh's sons of the Valorous Bands,
Those heroes, the seed of the olden Phœnicians,
Though now trodden down, without fame, without lands;
Of her ancestors flourished the Barrys and Powers,
To the Lords of Bunratty she, too, is allied,
And not a proud noble near Cashel's high towers
But is kin to this maiden, the Geraldine's pride.
Niece of Mileadh's sons of the Valorous Bands,
Those heroes, the seed of the olden Phœnicians,
Though now trodden down, without fame, without lands;
75
To the Lords of Bunratty she, too, is allied,
And not a proud noble near Cashel's high towers
But is kin to this maiden, the Geraldine's pride.
Of Saxon or Gael there is none to excel in
Her wisdom, her features, her figure, this fair;
In all she surpasses the far-famous Helen,
Whose beauty drove thousands to death and despair.
Whoe'er could but gaze on her aspect so noble
Would feel from thenceforward all anguish depart;
Yet for me 'tis, alas! my worst woe and my trouble
That her image must always abide in my heart!
Her wisdom, her features, her figure, this fair;
In all she surpasses the far-famous Helen,
Whose beauty drove thousands to death and despair.
Whoe'er could but gaze on her aspect so noble
Would feel from thenceforward all anguish depart;
Yet for me 'tis, alas! my worst woe and my trouble
That her image must always abide in my heart!
| Poems of James Clarence Mangan | |