The Poems of Thomas Davis :: :: University of Virginia Library

GLENGARIFF.

[_]

Air.—O'Sullivan's March.

I

I wandered at eve by Glengariff's sweet water,
Half in the shade, and half in the moon,
And thought of the time when the Sacsanach slaughter
Reddened the night and darkened the noon;
Mo nuar! mo nuar! mo nuar! I said,—
When I think, in this valley and sky—
Where true lovers and poets should sigh—
Of the time when its chieftain O'Sullivan fled.

II

Then my mind went along with O'Sullivan marching
Over Musk'ry's moors and Ormond's plain,
His curachs the waves of the Shannon o'erarching,
And his pathway mile-marked with the slain:
Mo nuar! mo nuar! mo nuar! I said,—
Yet 'twas better far from you to go,
And to battle with torrent and foe,
Than linger as slaves where your sweet waters spread.

III

But my fancy burst on, like a clan o'er the border,
To times that seemed almost at hand,
When grasping her banner, old Erin's Lamh Laidir
Alone shall rule over the rescued land:
O baotho! O baotho! O baotho! I said,—
Be our marching as steady and strong,
And freemen our vallies shall throng,
When the last of our foemen is vanquished and fled!

“Alas.”

Vide post, page 108.

“Oh, fine.”