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Ballads of Irish chivalry

By Robert Dwyer Joyce: Edited, with Annotations, by his brother P. W. Joyce

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O'SULLIVAN'S RETREAT. A.D. 1602–3.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


153

O'SULLIVAN'S RETREAT. A.D. 1602–3.

[_]

Air: “Ca rabhais a anois chailín bhig.”

I

Glengarriff's shore could give no more
The shelter strong we needed;
So away we trode on our wintry road,
Its dangers all unheeded.
The snows were deep, the paths were steep,
But worse than these soon found us—
The ruffian swords and the traitor hordes
That flocked like wolves around us.
We'll shout hurrah for valour's sway,
Each trembling coward scorning,
For cleaving brands in dauntless hands,
And all the Freedom's morning!

II

Mac Caurha's powers by Duhallow's towers
Our charge they turned their backs on;
And Mallow's flood we stained with blood
Of Barry, Rupè, Saxon.
By Galty's hill around us still
Rushed many a fierce marauder,
Yet our path we clave to Shannon's wave,
And all by the good lámh láidir.
We'll shout hurrah! &c.

154

III

Mac Egan's wrath there barred our path,
But we gave him warning early
To clear the way or his bands we'd slay,
And we kept our promise fairly.
Each killed his steed in that hour of need,
After false Mac Egan's slaughter,
Curraghs unstaid of their skins we made,
And crossed the Shannon's water.
Then shout hurrah! &c.

IV

O'Sullivan marched on our van,
When the foe at Aughrim found us;
Black Malbie's head on the sward he laid,
While we fought all around us.
But O, how few of our brave and true
Reached Brefney's mountains hoary!
Yet none should weep for the brave who sleep
On that path so rough and gory.
Then shout hurrah for valour's sway,
Each trembling coward scorning,
For cleaving brands in dauntless hands,
And all for Freedom's morning!