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 | The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere |  |
THE TRUE KING.
A BARD SONG.
A.D. 1399.
I
He came in the night on a false pretence;As a friend he came; as a lord remains:
His coming we noted not; when, or whence;
We slept: we woke in chains.
Ere a year they had chased us to dens and caves;
Our streets and our churches lay drown'd in blood;
The race that had sold us their sons as slaves
In our Land as conquerors stood!
II
Who were they, those princes that gave awayWhat was theirs to keep, not theirs to give?
A king holds sway for a passing day;
The kingdoms for ever live!
The Tanist succeeds when the King is dust:
The King rules all; yet the King hath nought:
They were traitors not Kings who sold their trust;
They were traitors not Kings who bought!
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III
Brave Art Mac Murrough!—Arise, 'tis morn!For a true King the nation waited long,
He is strong as the horn of the unicorn,
This true King who rights our wrong!
He rules in the fight by an inward right;
From the heart of the nation her king is grown;
He rules by right; he is might of her might;
Her flesh, and bone of her bone!
| The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere | |