 | The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere |  |
97
DIRGE OF OWEN ROE O'NEILL.
A.D. 1649.
So, 'tis over! Lift the dead!
Bear him to his place of rest,
Broken heart, and blighted head:
Lay the Cross upon his breast.
Bear him to his place of rest,
Broken heart, and blighted head:
Lay the Cross upon his breast.
There be many die too late;
Here is one that died too soon:
'Twas not Fortune—it was Fate
After him that cast her shoon.
Here is one that died too soon:
'Twas not Fortune—it was Fate
After him that cast her shoon.
Toll the church bells slowly: toll!
God this day is wroth with Eire:
Seal the book, and fold the scroll;
Crush the harp, and burst the wire.
God this day is wroth with Eire:
Seal the book, and fold the scroll;
Crush the harp, and burst the wire.
Lords and priests, ye talked and talked
In Kilkenny's Council Hall;
But this man whose game ye baulked
Was the one man 'mong you all!
In Kilkenny's Council Hall;
But this man whose game ye baulked
Was the one man 'mong you all!
'Twas not in the field he fell!
Sing his requiem, dark-stoled choir!
Let a nation sound his knell:
God this day is wroth with Eire!
Sing his requiem, dark-stoled choir!
Let a nation sound his knell:
God this day is wroth with Eire!
The conqueror of Benburb died (by poison as was believed at the time) just after he and Ormond had concluded terms for joint action against Cromwell. Had he not been summoned to Kilkenny when on the point of following up the victory of Benburb, the Puritan army must, within a few days, have been driven out of Ulster.
| The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere | |