University of Virginia Library


21

I
TO A LADY

Daughter of Ireland,—nay, 'twere better said,
Daughter of Ireland's beauty, Ireland's grace,
Child of her charm, of her romance; whose face
Is legendary with her glories fled!
The shadow of her living griefs and dead
I pray you to put by a little space,

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And mourn with me an ancient Orient race
Outcast and doomed and disinherited.
Though Wrong be strong, though thrones be built on crimes,
To know you, Lady, is to doubt no more
That in the world are mightier powers than these;
That heaven, the ocean, gains on earth, the shore;
And that deformity and hate are Time's,
And love and loveliness Eternity's.