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| II. |
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| VI. |
 | The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere |  |
184
V. OISEEN'S GRATEFUL COUNSEL.
‘Patrick, 'tis right thy house should roof
This else unshielded head!
Reverence is due to Prince and Bard,
To dying men, and dead.
This else unshielded head!
Reverence is due to Prince and Bard,
To dying men, and dead.
‘Patrick, I think that thou, like me,
Descend'st from princely line;
And if thy sires were saints, what help?
Needs must their ways be thine!
Descend'st from princely line;
And if thy sires were saints, what help?
Needs must their ways be thine!
‘Patrick, thy brethren's songs are naught!
Thin wails from breasts ill-fed:
Nor valour yet, nor kindness throve
On lentils and hard bread!
Thin wails from breasts ill-fed:
Nor valour yet, nor kindness throve
On lentils and hard bread!
‘Their songs rouse none to gen'rous rage:
All Lent they seemed to flow
From hearts of hapless men that sinned
Some great sin long ago.
All Lent they seemed to flow
From hearts of hapless men that sinned
Some great sin long ago.
‘I judge not such. What man of men
Could live man's life aright
Who ne'er had learned its best of joys,
Full banquet, and free fight?
Could live man's life aright
Who ne'er had learned its best of joys,
Full banquet, and free fight?
‘Patrick, I give thee counsel good,
Since good thou art:—Each day
Feed thrice thy saints with flesh and wine:
Then lock them up to pray!
Since good thou art:—Each day
Feed thrice thy saints with flesh and wine:
Then lock them up to pray!
185
‘Likewise, if reverence thou wouldst win,
Take thou good spoil at need!
No chief should live on gifts—they least
High chiefs of rite and creed!
Take thou good spoil at need!
No chief should live on gifts—they least
High chiefs of rite and creed!
‘Patrick, I love thy song of One
Who fought with fiends for man,
Who vanquished Death, and rapt from Hell
The old warriors of his clan.
Who fought with fiends for man,
Who vanquished Death, and rapt from Hell
The old warriors of his clan.
‘That tale is true! The best we think,
Or dream, that God can do!
Who doubts that legend's truth is fool,
Who scoffs it is untrue.
Or dream, that God can do!
Who doubts that legend's truth is fool,
Who scoffs it is untrue.
‘But, Patrick, they who know that Truth
Should walk in pride and mirth:
Why not? Their warriors reign in heaven!
Their loved ones of the hearth!
Should walk in pride and mirth:
Why not? Their warriors reign in heaven!
Their loved ones of the hearth!
‘I would that all Baoignè's host
Had lived to hear thy word:
Their swords had made the man who wrought
That deed all Erin's Lord!
Had lived to hear thy word:
Their swords had made the man who wrought
That deed all Erin's Lord!
‘I would that like my Oscar thou
Couldst harp—or fight at need;
That feast of Fionn's were thine; that Fionn
Had shared thy Great One's deed!
Couldst harp—or fight at need;
That feast of Fionn's were thine; that Fionn
Had shared thy Great One's deed!
‘Patrick! this tangled good and ill
Make all man's life perplext:
My chiefs were earth's best breed:—I think
Thy saints and thou come next!’
Make all man's life perplext:
My chiefs were earth's best breed:—I think
Thy saints and thou come next!’
| The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere | |