Ballads of Irish chivalry :: :: University of Virginia Library

The Baron of Brugh took his steel-grey steed,
And faced the mid-day sun;
And he'd gained Glennaive, so wild his speed,
Ere the noontide course was run.

134

II

He rode by Glennaive and near many a grave,
O'er that lone glen's sacred rill,
And he slacked not nor stayed, till he reached the green glade
By the Red Rath of the Hill.

III

As he rested by the lone Red Rath,
A charger's tramp heard he,
And riding nigh on the woodland path
Soon came to White Ladye.

IV

She was no fairy of the place,
Though she shamed the fairies' speed;
Milk-white her dress, pale pale her face,
And snow-white was her steed.

V

The Baron leaped as a knight should leap,
All on to his saddle-tree,
And away away through the woods did sweep
After the White Ladye.

VI

Till deep in the glen of Barnagee
She turned her steed around,
And charged the Baron right valiantly,
As he went with an eager bound.

VII

A long bright glaive in her hand she bore,
And she came like a knightly foe,
And the Baron she struck on the helm so sore
That he bent to his saddle bow.

135

VIII

There came a rock in his charger's path,
As that furious course he ran,
And with headlong plunge and with kindled wrath,
To the ground went horse and man.

IX

Never he rose from the rocky ground
Till the sunset o'er him shone,
Then he mounted his steed and he looked around,
But the White Ladye was gone.

X

Ere waned the next moon's silver light
He sought that place agen,
And there he saw a sad sad sight
A-nigh the hollow glen.

XI

There lay a dead knight in his path,
Cloven through crown and crest,
And the White Ladye near the lone Red Rath
With an arrow in her breast.

XII

And over the Ladye the Baron stood,
As her life began to fail,
And ever as flowed the red red blood,
She told her woeful tale.

XIII

“My father lived where yon grey tower
Frowns o'er the Champion's stream;
There fled my days since childhood's hour,
All like a pleasant dream.

136

XIV

“This bridal dress, with my life-blood red,
One lovely morn I wore,
For I in gladness was to wed
The Master of Kilmore.

XV

“The feast was spread, when in there sped
A young chief from Maiga's side,
And his spearmen tall crowded porch and hall,
And he said he had come for the bride.

XVI

“Up sprang vassal and knightly guest,
Each answering with a blow,
And soon was changed our bridal feast
To a scene of blood and woe.

XVII

“I saw my father falling there,
And my love lie in his gore,
And in wild despair, I knew not where,
I fled through the wicket door.

XVIII

“Soon soon I found my courser white,
And fled over vale and lea,
But ever still, since that fatal night,
That false chief follows me.

XIX

“He chased me all this woeful morn,
He sent this arrow keen,
But never more to the battle borne
Shall his proud crest be seen.

137

XX

“For ere I fell in this lonely dell,
My steed leapt forth amain,
And with this good sword of my dead young lord
I cleft through the false knight's brain.”

XXI

Soon the Ladye died, and the Baron of Brugh
Was a woeful wight that hour;
For the dead young knight was his brother Hugh,
The lord of Crom's dark tower.