 | The Irish Poems of Alfred Perceval Graves |  |
44
SONGS OF THE GAEL
KITTY BAWN
Before the first ray of blushing day
Who should come by but Kitty Bawn,
With her cheek like the rose on a bed of snows,
And her bosom beneath like the sailing swan.
I looked and looked till my heart was gone.
Who should come by but Kitty Bawn,
With her cheek like the rose on a bed of snows,
And her bosom beneath like the sailing swan.
I looked and looked till my heart was gone.
With the foot of the fawn she crossed the lawn,
Half confiding and half in fear;
And her eyes of blue they thrilled me through
One blessed minute; then like the deer
Away she started and left me here.
Half confiding and half in fear;
And her eyes of blue they thrilled me through
One blessed minute; then like the deer
Away she started and left me here.
Oh, Sun, you are late at your golden gate,
For you've nothing to show beneath the sky
To compare to the lass who crossed the grass
Of the shamrock field ere the dew was dry,
And the glance she gave me as she went by.
For you've nothing to show beneath the sky
To compare to the lass who crossed the grass
Of the shamrock field ere the dew was dry,
And the glance she gave me as she went by.
BESIDE THE RIVER LOUNE
Nevermore, where yon ash is weeping,
Old and hoar, over Loune,
Nevermore shall my heart go leaping
At the glance of her gown.
Nevermore, when snowflakes falling
Blanch the wrinkled, writhing boughs,
Shall I hear my love's voice kindly calling
Her “Come home!” to the cows.
Old and hoar, over Loune,
Nevermore shall my heart go leaping
At the glance of her gown.
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Blanch the wrinkled, writhing boughs,
Shall I hear my love's voice kindly calling
Her “Come home!” to the cows.
O'er our tryst by the lone Loune water,
At the Ford of the Sloes,
Crept the mist, while the wild brown water
In anger arose.
Step by step each ford stone seeking,
She shimmered at my side,
But a sudden spate it swept her shrieking
Down the red, raging tide.
At the Ford of the Sloes,
Crept the mist, while the wild brown water
In anger arose.
Step by step each ford stone seeking,
She shimmered at my side,
But a sudden spate it swept her shrieking
Down the red, raging tide.
All night with the flood fiend wrestling
I sought her forlorn,
Till amid the blue forget-me-not nestling
I found her at morn.
Like a maiden of marble moulded,
All at peace my love lay there,
With her hands upon her bosom folded,
Meekly folded in prayer.
I sought her forlorn,
Till amid the blue forget-me-not nestling
I found her at morn.
Like a maiden of marble moulded,
All at peace my love lay there,
With her hands upon her bosom folded,
Meekly folded in prayer.
LAST NIGHT I DREAMT OF MY OWN TRUE LOVE
Last night I dreamt of my own true love!
Methought, methought beneath the stars
There fluttered, fluttered at my casement bars
A wildly wailing turtle dove.
I caught him in, and lo! I found
A letter to his bosom bound.
Methought, methought beneath the stars
There fluttered, fluttered at my casement bars
A wildly wailing turtle dove.
I caught him in, and lo! I found
A letter to his bosom bound.
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But when the ribbon I untwined
That wreathed his wing of restless snow,
By his dark welling life-blood's flow
Alas! 'twas all incarnadined,
Deep crimson as the letter's seal
From out a wound no art could heal.
That wreathed his wing of restless snow,
By his dark welling life-blood's flow
Alas! 'twas all incarnadined,
Deep crimson as the letter's seal
From out a wound no art could heal.
I made my sobbing bird a nest
Within my softly shelt'ring arms;
His panting pain, his wild alarms
I lulled at last to languid rest;
When, oh! with my own true love's eyes
He wakes and looks me through and dies.
Within my softly shelt'ring arms;
His panting pain, his wild alarms
I lulled at last to languid rest;
When, oh! with my own true love's eyes
He wakes and looks me through and dies.
O, BRANCH OF FRAGRANT BLOSSOM
O, branch of fragrant blossom,
How the heart in my bosom
Lay heaving before you with hopeless sigh;
Till your voice grew low and tender,
And a soft, love-lit splendour
Shone out to save me from your dark, dreamy eye.
How the heart in my bosom
Lay heaving before you with hopeless sigh;
Till your voice grew low and tender,
And a soft, love-lit splendour
Shone out to save me from your dark, dreamy eye.
O, branch of rosy blossom,
Radiant bride of my bosom,
My heart heaves no longer with hopeless sigh;
For you're the blessed shadow
Upon my burning meadow,
My sunshine in winter, and my love till I die.
Radiant bride of my bosom,
My heart heaves no longer with hopeless sigh;
For you're the blessed shadow
Upon my burning meadow,
My sunshine in winter, and my love till I die.
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ALONE, ALL ALONE
When westward I'm called,
'Tis not east I'd be going.
Should I sup the salt wave
With the pure spring to hand,
Or prefer the base weed
To the richest rose blowing,
Or not follow my own love
The first through the land?
'Tis not east I'd be going.
Should I sup the salt wave
With the pure spring to hand,
Or prefer the base weed
To the richest rose blowing,
Or not follow my own love
The first through the land?
Oh, my heart is a fountain
Of sorrow unspoken,
A virgin nut-cluster
Untimely down torn!
And, oh, but my heart
Flutters bleeding and broken,
Like a bird beating out
Its wild life on a thorn.
Of sorrow unspoken,
A virgin nut-cluster
Untimely down torn!
And, oh, but my heart
Flutters bleeding and broken,
Like a bird beating out
Its wild life on a thorn.
His cheek is the hue
Of the blackberry blossom,
And blackberry blue
His dark tresses above;
And I'm cryin' without,
Who should lie in his bosom,
And I doubt and I doubt
If he's true to his love.
Of the blackberry blossom,
And blackberry blue
His dark tresses above;
And I'm cryin' without,
Who should lie in his bosom,
And I doubt and I doubt
If he's true to his love.
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'Tis time I should part you,
Proud, hurrying City;
For your tongues they cut sharper
By far than your stone,
And your hearts than that same
Are more hardened to pity;
So my love I'll go seeking,
Alone, all alone!
Proud, hurrying City;
For your tongues they cut sharper
By far than your stone,
And your hearts than that same
Are more hardened to pity;
So my love I'll go seeking,
Alone, all alone!
SINCE WE'RE APART
Since we're apart, since we're apart,
The weariness and lonely smart
Are going greatly round my heart;
Upon my pillow, ere I sleep,
The full of my two shoes I weep,
And like a ghost all day I creep.
The weariness and lonely smart
Are going greatly round my heart;
Upon my pillow, ere I sleep,
The full of my two shoes I weep,
And like a ghost all day I creep.
'Tis what you said you'd never change
Or with another ever range,
Now ev'n the Church is cold and strange.
There side by side our seats we took,
There side by side we held one book;
But with another now you look.
Or with another ever range,
Now ev'n the Church is cold and strange.
There side by side our seats we took,
There side by side we held one book;
But with another now you look.
And when the service it was o'er,
We'd walk the meadow's flow'ry floor,
As we shall walk and walk no more.
For while beneath the starry glow,
Ye two sit laughing light and low,
A shade among the shades I go.
We'd walk the meadow's flow'ry floor,
As we shall walk and walk no more.
For while beneath the starry glow,
Ye two sit laughing light and low,
A shade among the shades I go.
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O LOVE, 'TIS A CALM, STARRY NIGHT
O love, 'tis a calm, starry night;
No breath stirs the leaves below;
My steed is at the door
And my ship is by the shore,
Then come down to me, my darling, and away, away we'll go;
Then come down, and far, and far away we'll go.
No breath stirs the leaves below;
My steed is at the door
And my ship is by the shore,
Then come down to me, my darling, and away, away we'll go;
Then come down, and far, and far away we'll go.
Your guardian is sleeping above,
Base churl, with his taunt and blow!
The house is all at rest;
Only you that I love best
Like a busy mouse keep rustling to and fro,
To make ready still keep rustling to and fro.
Base churl, with his taunt and blow!
The house is all at rest;
Only you that I love best
Like a busy mouse keep rustling to and fro,
To make ready still keep rustling to and fro.
Now soft you come stealing down the stair!
My heart it is all in a glow;
O, stay your silent tears,
O, cease your maiden fears!
For the world's wealth I'd never from you go, or work you woe!
For the world's wealth how could I use you so.
My heart it is all in a glow;
O, stay your silent tears,
O, cease your maiden fears!
For the world's wealth I'd never from you go, or work you woe!
For the world's wealth how could I use you so.
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OVER HERE
Oh, the praties they are small,
Over here, over here!
Oh, the praties they are small,
Over here!
Oh, the praties they are small,
And we dig them in the fall,
And we eat them coats and all,
Full of fear, full of fear.
Over here, over here!
Oh, the praties they are small,
Over here!
Oh, the praties they are small,
And we dig them in the fall,
And we eat them coats and all,
Full of fear, full of fear.
Oh, I wish we all were geese,
Night and morn, night and morn,
Oh, I wish we all were geese,
Night and morn!
Oh, I wish we all were geese,
For they live and die in peace,
Till the hour of their decease,
Stuffing corn, stuffing corn.
Night and morn, night and morn,
Oh, I wish we all were geese,
Night and morn!
Oh, I wish we all were geese,
For they live and die in peace,
Till the hour of their decease,
Stuffing corn, stuffing corn.
Oh, we're down into the dust,
Over here, over here!
Oh, we're down into the dust,
Over here!
Oh, we're down into the dust,
But the God in Whom we trust,
Will yet give us crumb for crust,
Over here, over here!
Over here, over here!
Oh, we're down into the dust,
Over here!
Oh, we're down into the dust,
But the God in Whom we trust,
Will yet give us crumb for crust,
Over here, over here!
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REMEMBER THE POOR
Oh! remember the poor when your fortune is sure,
And acre to acre you join;
Oh! remember the poor, though but slender your store,
And you ne'er can go gallant and fine.
Oh! remember the poor when they cry at your door
In the raging rain and blast;
Call them in, cheer them up with the bite and the sup,
Till they leave you their blessing at last.
And acre to acre you join;
Oh! remember the poor, though but slender your store,
And you ne'er can go gallant and fine.
Oh! remember the poor when they cry at your door
In the raging rain and blast;
Call them in, cheer them up with the bite and the sup,
Till they leave you their blessing at last.
The red fox has his lair, and each bird of the air
With the night settles warm in his nest,
But the King who laid down His celestial crown
For our sakes, He had nowhere to rest.
Oh! the poor were forgot till their pitiful lot
He bowed Himself to endure;
If your souls ye would make, for His Heavenly sake,
Oh! remember, remember the poor.
With the night settles warm in his nest,
But the King who laid down His celestial crown
For our sakes, He had nowhere to rest.
Oh! the poor were forgot till their pitiful lot
He bowed Himself to endure;
If your souls ye would make, for His Heavenly sake,
Oh! remember, remember the poor.
A LULLABY
I've found my bonny babe a nest
On Slumber Tree;
I'll rock you there to rosy rest,
Astore machree!
Oh, lulla lo! sing all the leaves
On Slumber Tree;
Till everything that hurts or grieves
Afar must flee.
On Slumber Tree;
I'll rock you there to rosy rest,
Astore machree!
Oh, lulla lo! sing all the leaves
On Slumber Tree;
Till everything that hurts or grieves
Afar must flee.
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I'd put my pretty child to float
Away from me,
Within the new moon's silver boat
On Slumber Sea.
And when your starry sail is o'er,
From Slumber Sea,
My precious one, you'll step to shore
On Mother's knee.
Away from me,
Within the new moon's silver boat
On Slumber Sea.
And when your starry sail is o'er,
From Slumber Sea,
My precious one, you'll step to shore
On Mother's knee.
LIKE A STONE IN THE STREET
I'm left all alone like a stone at the side of the street,
With no kind “good day” on the way from the many I meet.
Still with looks cold and high they go by, not one brow now unbends,
None holds out his hand of the band of my fair-weather friends.
With no kind “good day” on the way from the many I meet.
Still with looks cold and high they go by, not one brow now unbends,
None holds out his hand of the band of my fair-weather friends.
They helped me to spend to its end all my fine shining store,
They drank to my health and my wealth until both were no more.
And now they are off with a scoff as they leave me behind,
“When you've ate the rich fruit, under foot with the bare, bitter rind.”
They drank to my health and my wealth until both were no more.
And now they are off with a scoff as they leave me behind,
“When you've ate the rich fruit, under foot with the bare, bitter rind.”
There's rest deep and still on yon hill by our old church's side,
Where I laid you long ago, to my woe, my young one year's bride.
Then, ochone! for relief from my grief into madness I flew.
Would to God ere that day in the clay I'd been covered with you!
Where I laid you long ago, to my woe, my young one year's bride.
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Would to God ere that day in the clay I'd been covered with you!
THE SONGS ERIN SINGS
I've heard the lark's cry thrill the sky o'er the meadows of Lusk,
And the first joyous gush of the thrush from Adare's April wood,
At thy lone music's spell, Philomel, magic stricken I've stood,
When in Espan afar star on star trembled out of the dusk.
And the first joyous gush of the thrush from Adare's April wood,
At thy lone music's spell, Philomel, magic stricken I've stood,
When in Espan afar star on star trembled out of the dusk.
While Dunkerron's blue dove murmured love, 'neath her nest I have sighed,
And by mazy Culdaff with a laugh mocked the cuckoo's refrain,
Derrycarn's dusky bird I have heard piping joy hard by pain,
And the swan's last lament sobbing sent over Moyle's mystic tide.
And by mazy Culdaff with a laugh mocked the cuckoo's refrain,
Derrycarn's dusky bird I have heard piping joy hard by pain,
And the swan's last lament sobbing sent over Moyle's mystic tide.
Yet as bright shadows pass from the glass of the darkening lake,
As the rose's rapt sigh must die, when the zephyr is stilled;
In oblivion grey sleeps each lay that those birds ever trilled,
But the songs Erin sings from her strings shall immortally wake.
As the rose's rapt sigh must die, when the zephyr is stilled;
In oblivion grey sleeps each lay that those birds ever trilled,
But the songs Erin sings from her strings shall immortally wake.
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THE ROVING PEDLAR
Do you mind the glad day
When we ranged, we two, o'er the green,
Amid the white May,
On the borders of lovely Lough Lene,
How out of the road came the roving old pedlar's long cry:
“Come buy my pretty wares, pretty wares, come buy, come buy!”
When we ranged, we two, o'er the green,
Amid the white May,
On the borders of lovely Lough Lene,
How out of the road came the roving old pedlar's long cry:
“Come buy my pretty wares, pretty wares, come buy, come buy!”
Not a cloud in the air,
All the woods one warble of song,
And we just a pair
Of wood-pigeons coo-cooing along;
When he, overhearing us, cunningly alters his cry:
“Wedding poplins, wedding veils, wedding rings! come buy, come buy!”
All the woods one warble of song,
And we just a pair
Of wood-pigeons coo-cooing along;
When he, overhearing us, cunningly alters his cry:
“Wedding poplins, wedding veils, wedding rings! come buy, come buy!”
One look in my eyes
And you took, mabouchaleen bawn,
My third finger's size
With a ribbon of rustling finane;
And when he'd the wedding ring sold, that old pedlar so sly,
“Just that poplin, just that veil, just those gloves,” he coaxed us to buy.
And you took, mabouchaleen bawn,
My third finger's size
With a ribbon of rustling finane;
And when he'd the wedding ring sold, that old pedlar so sly,
“Just that poplin, just that veil, just those gloves,” he coaxed us to buy.
| The Irish Poems of Alfred Perceval Graves | |