 | Ballads of Irish chivalry |  |
FAINGE AN LAE.
I
The sun in his splendour and glorySets over the shining main,
And island and precipice hoary
Are swimming in gold again;
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He lights by that ocean's spray,
The scenes of each tragical story
Which darkened our Fainge an lae!
II
The hill-tops of Clare are definingTheir shapes in the golden glow;
The mountains of Kerry are shining
Sublime on the plains below;
They look on a master still twining
The gyves of our woe each day;
They look on a race ever pining,
And all for our Fainge an lae.
III
They mind me, so riven and valleyed,Of bownocht and rapparee,
Who oft' round their hoar summits rallied
To set their green country free.
Oh! these were the men that ne'er dallied
When once set in war's array,
But fierce on the scared foeman sallied,
And all for their Fainge an lae.
IV
Fair Freedom soon, soon must awakenWith her form of sun-bright mould;
Then let her not wander forsaken,
But armed, as in days of old,—
With her green flags and banners outshaken
Oh! what could our triumph stay?
Our thirst for the right would be slaken—
We'd soon have our Fainge an lae!
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V
When the power of the tyrant is riven,And swordless his blood-stained hand,
When the black clouds from Erin are driven,
Oh! where is the brighter land?
And when shall that grand hour be given
That sets us on Freedom's way?
When, like the great Dead, we have striven,
And all for our Fainge an lae!
| Ballads of Irish chivalry | |