Ballads of Irish chivalry By Robert Dwyer Joyce: Edited, with Annotations, by his brother P. W. Joyce |
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MAUD OF DESMOND. |
 | Ballads of Irish chivalry |  |
122
MAUD OF DESMOND.
I
Dreams a knight that ne'er againShall Maud of Desmond wake to love:
That she hath fled from grief and pain
Away to Heaven's bright fields above—
Never more shall wake to love,
So dreams that knight by a streamlet narrow;
'Tis far down in the summer grove,
By the dancing tide of the murmuring Carrow.
II
Who is he with looks of pain,That dreams beneath the branches there?
The dark-haired knight of Castlemaine,
Of the active frame and the manly air.
His brow is clouded now with care;
They pierce his heart—those dreams—and harrow,
And he starteth up from his mossy lair
By the dancing tide of the murmuring Carrow.
III
Maud of Desmond loved him true,But, ah, her princely father smiled
On a stranger lord who came to woo
That bonnie maid so pure and mild.
That young knight broods with bitter smile,
For memory came like a poisoned arrow;
And he dashed away on his charger wild
From the dancing tide of the murmuring Carrow.
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IV
Maud of Desmond makes her moanFor her hapless love in her native bowers:
The grand eve from its golden throne
Is marshalling its crimson powers:
The fields beneath are starred with flowers,
The stream runs calm where the aspens quiver;
It is where Crom's embattled towers
Are mirrored in the Maigue's bright river.
V
She sees a knight come from the WestDown the woody vale in fiery speed,
And well she knows his helmet crest
And the stately step of his noble steed;
It is her own true knight, I rede,
Who comes a last farewell to give her,
And he sits beside her in the mead,
That summer eve by the Maigue's bright river.
VI
And soon the knight's farewell is told,And sad he turns to the hills away:
But who, advancing from the wold,
Now bars his path to their summits grey?
It is the stranger lord:—All day
He'd chased the roe where the wild woods quiver
To the bugle's note and the staghound's bay,
In the summer dells by the Maigue's bright river.
VII
He stands upon the woodland path,Grim glowering on the western knight,
And meeting in their hate and wrath,
They close in stern and deadly fight;
124
Their keen swords into fragments shiver,
And they draw their daggers sharp and bright
For that lady's love by the Maigue's bright river.
VIII
But see! In that fierce and bitter strife,The stranger lord goes down, and there,
With outstretched hands, he begs for life,—
And the young knight listens to his prayer:
He speaks with a calm and lordly air:
“I give thy life, but shun thou the giver,
And shun the paths of this lady fair
For evermore by the Maigue's bright river!”
IX
“By the towers of Crom!” Earl Desmond cries—For he saw the fight from his castle wall—
“Such valour still my heart will prize,
Till death upon its throbbings fall;
Come, spread the banquet in the hall;
The brave should have their meed for ever!”
And he brings the knight to his festival,
In castled Crom by the Maigue's bright river.
X
There was a mighty feast that e'en,And a bridal train next morning tide;
And joyful was the young knight's mien
With Maud of Desmond at his side.
And she was a happy happy bride,
With all that power and love could give her,—
The fairest bride in that region wide,
In castled Crom by the Maigue's bright river.
| Ballads of Irish chivalry | |