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 GROANS OF DESPAIR. |
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 | Poems of James Clarence Mangan |  |
THE GROANS OF DESPAIR.
Oh no, my friend! I abide unseen—
You paint your home as left forlorn?—
Yet ask not me to meet you more,
This heart of mine, once gay and green,
Far more than yours is now outworn,
And feels as 'twere one cancered sore;
I walk alone in trouble
Revolving thoughts of gloom,
Each passing day doth but redouble
The miseries of my doom!
You paint your home as left forlorn?—
Yet ask not me to meet you more,
This heart of mine, once gay and green,
Far more than yours is now outworn,
And feels as 'twere one cancered sore;
I walk alone in trouble
Revolving thoughts of gloom,
Each passing day doth but redouble
The miseries of my doom!
In trouble? Oh, how weak a word!—
In woe, in horror, let me say—
In wretchedness without a name!
The wrath of God, the avenging sword
Of Heav'n burns in my breast alway,
With ever freshly torturing flame!
And desolateness and terror
Have made me their dark mate—
The ghastly brood of sin and error
Repented all—Too Late
In woe, in horror, let me say—
In wretchedness without a name!
The wrath of God, the avenging sword
Of Heav'n burns in my breast alway,
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And desolateness and terror
Have made me their dark mate—
The ghastly brood of sin and error
Repented all—Too Late
I see black dragons mount the sky,
I see earth yawn beneath my feet—
I feel within the asp, the worm
That will not sleep and cannot die,
Fair though may show the winding sheet!
I hear all night, as through a storm,
Hoarse voices calling, calling
My name upon the wind—
All omens, monstrous and appalling,
Affright my guilty mind.
I see earth yawn beneath my feet—
I feel within the asp, the worm
That will not sleep and cannot die,
Fair though may show the winding sheet!
I hear all night, as through a storm,
Hoarse voices calling, calling
My name upon the wind—
All omens, monstrous and appalling,
Affright my guilty mind.
I exult alone in one wild hour,
That hour in which the red cup drowns
The memories it anon renews
In ghastlier guise, in fiercer power—
Then Fancy brings me golden crowns,
And visions of all brilliant hues
Lap my lost soul in gladness,
Until I awake again,
And the dark lava-fires of madness
Once more sweep through my brain!
That hour in which the red cup drowns
The memories it anon renews
In ghastlier guise, in fiercer power—
Then Fancy brings me golden crowns,
And visions of all brilliant hues
Lap my lost soul in gladness,
Until I awake again,
And the dark lava-fires of madness
Once more sweep through my brain!
You tell me truth may win me back—
Alas! your words but pierce like spears!
Alas! my hopes lie long inurned!
The gone is gone—man cannot track
Afresh his course of blasted years,
Or bid flowers bloom where fires have burned.
Such flowers bloomed once around me,
But those are dead!—all—all!
And now the fiends who've bound me
Hold me in hopeless thrall!
Alas! your words but pierce like spears!
Alas! my hopes lie long inurned!
The gone is gone—man cannot track
Afresh his course of blasted years,
Or bid flowers bloom where fires have burned.
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But those are dead!—all—all!
And now the fiends who've bound me
Hold me in hopeless thrall!
In those resplendent years of Youth
When virtue seems the true romance,
And naught else lures the generous mind,
I might, even had I strayed from Truth,
Have yet retrieved my road perchance,
And left mine errors far behind—
But return now?—oh, never,
Never, and never more!
Truth's holy fire is quenched for ever
Within my bosom's core!
When virtue seems the true romance,
And naught else lures the generous mind,
I might, even had I strayed from Truth,
Have yet retrieved my road perchance,
And left mine errors far behind—
But return now?—oh, never,
Never, and never more!
Truth's holy fire is quenched for ever
Within my bosom's core!
Farewell! my friend. For you fair hope
Still smiles—though lone, you still are free.
But, for myself, I nightly die—
In dreams I see that black gate ope
That shows my future doom to me
In pictured forms that cannot lie!
Farewell! forget my story,
I live beneath a ban:
But to the all-wise God be glory,
Whate'er becomes of Man!
Still smiles—though lone, you still are free.
But, for myself, I nightly die—
In dreams I see that black gate ope
That shows my future doom to me
In pictured forms that cannot lie!
Farewell! forget my story,
I live beneath a ban:
But to the all-wise God be glory,
Whate'er becomes of Man!
| Poems of James Clarence Mangan | |