 | Ballads of Irish chivalry |  |
DONALL NA GREINE.
I
Where rolls the tide of the wandering Mulla,Brilliantly gleaming, gushing and gleaming,
Young Donall lay in a sunny hollow,
Lazily dreaming, thinking and dreaming;
And thus he lay all that sweet summer idle,
Fleeing from labour, fleeing from labour,
When his left hand should hold the skian or the bridle,
And his right the steel sabre, the keen cutting sabre;
241
Sang Donall na Greine! tall Donall na Greine!
For both he dreamed of, not war and glory,
Donall na Greine! tall Donall na Greine!
II
There built he many an airy castle,Towering and gleaming, towering and gleaming,
And peopled their halls with fair maid and vassal,
In his wild dreaming, in his wild dreaming;
And ne'er one cause could he still discover,
Why his ease should be broken, his sweet ease broken,
Till his love proved false, and his dreams were over,
And he a rover—to sorrow awoken!
Then hurra! hurra! for a life of labour,
Sang Donall na Greine! tall Donall na Greine!
The steed, the corselet, and flashing sabre,
For Donall na Greine! bold Donall na Greine!
III
His steed's black mane to the winds is streaming,By valley and highland, by moorland and highland;
You'd stray from Bengore with the white spray gleaming,
To Cleir's stormy island, to Cleir's stormy island,
Ere a better or doughtier man could meet you,
Than Donall na Greine! tall Donall na Greine!
Or a fiercer, haughtier smile could greet you—
Tall Donall na Greine! bold Donall na Greine!
242
Sang Donall na Greine! bold Donall na Greine!
The rushing charge and the flashing sabre
For Donall na Greine! bold Donall na Greine!
IV
Soon the rapparees all his brave brothers were swornThrough hardship and danger, through hardship and danger;
O'Hogan to battle was never borne
So fleet on the stranger, the false hearted stranger—
Oh! to see him down on the foeman dashing,
How fearless he bore him, how reckless he bore him!
With his sabre keen in his strong hand flashing,
Through the Sassenaghs crashing—his green flag o'er him!
And hurra! hurra! for a life of labour,
Sang Donall na Greine! bold Donall na Greine!
The rushing charge and the shining sabre,
For Donall na Greine! bold Donall na Greine!
V
Once again he loved, by the Shannon water,A maiden unchanging, with fond heart unchanging,
And after many a field of slaughter,
Away they went ranging, to foreign lands ranging;—
At Fontenoy his brave generals paid him,
Tall Donall na Greine! bold Donall na Greine!
243
For fear never swayed him, bold Donall na Greine!
Then hurra! for love and a life of labour,
Sang Donall na Greine! bold Donall na Greine!
Unchanging love and a conquering sabre,
For Donall na Greine! bold Donall na Greine!
| Ballads of Irish chivalry | |