Ballads of Irish chivalry :: :: University of Virginia Library

Near the towers of old Ardfinnan, by the broad ford's mossy stone,
Down sat the little Thomas and thus he made his moan:—
“He has perished, he has perished, O, my chieftain young and brave,
And my father too sleeps with him underneath the rushing wave.

II

“Many hearts for John of Desmond through the Munster vales will pine,
But none will beat amongst them half so desolate as mine,—
I, the page, whose pleasant duty was by my dear lord to stay,—
I, the orphan lone, whose father hath perished here today.”

III

The golden blaze of sunset died from out the western sky,
The moon in clear white splendour rose o'er the peakéd mountains high,
But the little page sat weeping still beside the ford's grey stone,
And to the waters sweeping thus again he made his moan:—

IV

“Woe is me! that they have perished; ah, I nevermore shall find
A master like the Desmond, a lord so good and kind”—
Here he started from his mossy seat with a sudden throb of fear,
For the Desmond stood before him in the moonlight cold and clear!

V

On his limbs the battle harness, on his head bright helm and plume,
But pale pale were his features, marked that morn with youth's fair bloom.
“Stay thy lorn and bitter weeping, O my little page,” he said,
“For beneath the waters sleeping it has waked the early dead.

VI

“The good sword that I gave thee on our last victorious day,
It shall carve thy path to glory if bright honour light the way.
One little maid there dwelleth by the green shore of the Lee,
Only her love shall be greater than my constant love for thee.”

VII

The phantom warrior vanished in the cold light of the moon,
And the little page now heareth but the Suir's low murmuring tune;
Swift he rusheth from the river, swift he springeth on his steed,
And through the moon-lit forest path he's gone with lightning speed.

VIII

Ten springs more have decked the valleys and it is a morn in May;
Knightly spurs the page now weareth, for bright honour lit his way;
Before the bridal altar with a happy heart stands he,
And his bride is that fair maiden by the green shore of the Lee.