With the Wild Geese By Emily Lawless: With An Introduction by Stopford A. Brooke |
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| WITH THE WILD GEESE |
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 | With the Wild Geese |  |
1
WITH THE WILD GEESE
“Weep not for the dead, neither bemoan
him, but weep for him that goeth away,
for he shall return no more, nor shall he
be seen again in his own country.”
3
AFTER AUGHRIM
She said, “They gave me of their best,
They lived, they gave their lives for me;
I tossed them to the howling waste,
And flung them to the foaming sea.”
They lived, they gave their lives for me;
I tossed them to the howling waste,
And flung them to the foaming sea.”
She said, “I never gave them aught,
Not mine the power, if mine the will;
I let them starve, I let them bleed,—
They bled and starved, and loved me still.”
Not mine the power, if mine the will;
I let them starve, I let them bleed,—
They bled and starved, and loved me still.”
She said, “Ten times they fought for me,
Ten times they strove with might and main,
Ten times I saw them beaten down,
Ten times they rose, and fought again.”
Ten times they strove with might and main,
4
Ten times they rose, and fought again.”
She said, “I stayed alone at home,
A dreary woman, grey and cold;
I never asked them how they fared,
Yet still they loved me as of old.”
A dreary woman, grey and cold;
I never asked them how they fared,
Yet still they loved me as of old.”
She said, “I never called them sons,
I almost ceased to breathe their name,
Then caught it echoing down the wind,
Blown backwards from the lips of Fame.”
I almost ceased to breathe their name,
Then caught it echoing down the wind,
Blown backwards from the lips of Fame.”
She said, “Not mine, not mine that fame;
Far over sea, far over land,
Cast forth like rubbish from my shores,
They won it yonder, sword in hand.”
Far over sea, far over land,
Cast forth like rubbish from my shores,
They won it yonder, sword in hand.”
5
She said, “God knows they owe me nought,
I tossed them to the foaming sea,
I tossed them to the howling waste,
Yet still their love comes home to me.”
I tossed them to the foaming sea,
I tossed them to the howling waste,
Yet still their love comes home to me.”
6
CLARE COAST
Circa 1720
See, cold island, we stand
Here to-night on your shore,
To-night, but never again;
Lingering a moment more.
See, beneath us our boat
Tugs at its tightening chain,
Holds out its sail to the breeze,
Pants to be gone again.
Off then with shouts and mirth,
Off with laughter and jests,
Mirth and song on our lips,
Hearts like lead in our breasts.
Death and the grave behind,
Death and a traitor's bier;
Honour and fame before,
Why do we linger here?
Why do we stand and gaze,
Fools, whom fools despise,
Fools untaught by the years,
Fools renounced by the wise?
Heartsick, a moment more,
Heartsick, sorry, fierce,
Lingering, lingering on,
Dreaming the dreams of yore;
Dreaming the dreams of our youth,
Dreaming the days when we stood
Joyous, expectant, serene,
Glad, exultant of mood,
Singing with hearts afire,
Singing with joyous strain,
Singing aloud in our pride,
“We shall redeem her again!”
Ah, not to-night that strain,—
Silent to-night we stand,
A scanty, a toil-worn crew,
Strangers, foes in the land!
Gone the light of our youth,
Gone for ever, and gone
Hope with the beautiful eyes,
Who laughed as she lured us on;
Lured us to danger and death,
To honour, perchance to fame,—
Empty fame at the best,
Glory half dimmed with shame.
War-battered dogs are we,
Fighters in every clime,
Fillers of trench and of grave,
Mockers, bemocked by time.
War-dogs, hungry and grey,
Gnawing a naked bone,
Fighters in every clime,
Every cause but our own.
Here to-night on your shore,
To-night, but never again;
Lingering a moment more.
See, beneath us our boat
Tugs at its tightening chain,
Holds out its sail to the breeze,
Pants to be gone again.
Off then with shouts and mirth,
Off with laughter and jests,
Mirth and song on our lips,
Hearts like lead in our breasts.
7
Death and a traitor's bier;
Honour and fame before,
Why do we linger here?
Why do we stand and gaze,
Fools, whom fools despise,
Fools untaught by the years,
Fools renounced by the wise?
Heartsick, a moment more,
Heartsick, sorry, fierce,
Lingering, lingering on,
Dreaming the dreams of yore;
Dreaming the dreams of our youth,
Dreaming the days when we stood
Joyous, expectant, serene,
Glad, exultant of mood,
Singing with hearts afire,
Singing with joyous strain,
8
“We shall redeem her again!”
Ah, not to-night that strain,—
Silent to-night we stand,
A scanty, a toil-worn crew,
Strangers, foes in the land!
Gone the light of our youth,
Gone for ever, and gone
Hope with the beautiful eyes,
Who laughed as she lured us on;
Lured us to danger and death,
To honour, perchance to fame,—
Empty fame at the best,
Glory half dimmed with shame.
War-battered dogs are we,
Fighters in every clime,
Fillers of trench and of grave,
Mockers, bemocked by time.
9
Gnawing a naked bone,
Fighters in every clime,
Every cause but our own.
See us, cold isle of our love!
Coldest, saddest of isles—
Cold as the hopes of our youth,
Cold as your own wan smiles.
Coldly your streams outpour,
Each apart on the height,
Trickling, indifferent, slow,
Lost in the hush of the night.
Colder, sadder the clouds,
Comfortless bringers of rain;
Desolate daughters of air,
Sweep o'er your sad grey plain
Hiding the form of your hills,
Hiding your low sand duns;
But coldest, saddest, oh isle!
Are the homeless hearts of your sons.
Coldest, saddest of isles—
Cold as the hopes of our youth,
Cold as your own wan smiles.
Coldly your streams outpour,
Each apart on the height,
Trickling, indifferent, slow,
Lost in the hush of the night.
Colder, sadder the clouds,
Comfortless bringers of rain;
Desolate daughters of air,
Sweep o'er your sad grey plain
Hiding the form of your hills,
10
But coldest, saddest, oh isle!
Are the homeless hearts of your sons.
Coldest, and saddest there,
In yon sun-lit land of the south,
Where we sicken, and sorrow, and pine,
And the jest flies from mouth to mouth,
And the church bells crash overhead,
And the idle hours flit by,
And the beaded wine-cups clink.
And the sun burns fierce in the sky;
And your exiles, the merry of heart,
Laugh and boast with the best,—
Boast, and extol their part,
Boast, till some lifted brow,
Crossed with a line severe,
Seems with displeasure to ask,
“Are these loud braggarts we hear,
Are they the sons of the West,
The wept-for, the theme of songs,
The exiled, the injured, the banned,
The men of a thousand wrongs?”
In yon sun-lit land of the south,
Where we sicken, and sorrow, and pine,
And the jest flies from mouth to mouth,
And the church bells crash overhead,
And the idle hours flit by,
And the beaded wine-cups clink.
And the sun burns fierce in the sky;
And your exiles, the merry of heart,
Laugh and boast with the best,—
Boast, and extol their part,
Boast, till some lifted brow,
Crossed with a line severe,
Seems with displeasure to ask,
11
Are they the sons of the West,
The wept-for, the theme of songs,
The exiled, the injured, the banned,
The men of a thousand wrongs?”
Fool, did you never hear
Of sunshine which broke through rain?
Sunshine which came with storm?
Laughter that rang of pain?
Boastings begotten of grief,
Vauntings to hide a smart,
Braggings with trembling lip,
Tricks of a broken heart?
Of sunshine which broke through rain?
Sunshine which came with storm?
Laughter that rang of pain?
Boastings begotten of grief,
Vauntings to hide a smart,
Braggings with trembling lip,
Tricks of a broken heart?
Sudden some wayward gleam,
Sudden some passing sound,—
The careless splash of an oar,
The idle bark of a hound,
A shadow crossing the sun,
An unknown step in the hall,
A nothing, a folly, a straw!—
Back it returns—all—all!
Back with the rush of a storm,
Back the old anguish and ill,
The sad, green landscape of home,
The small grey house by the hill,
The wide grey shores of the lake,
The low sky, seeming to weave
Its tender pitiful arms
Round the sick lone landscape at eve.
Back with its pains and its wrongs,
Back with its toils and its strife,
Back with its struggle and woe,
Back flows the stream of our life.
Darkened with treason and wrong,
Darkened with anguish and ruth,
Bitter, tumultuous, fierce,
Yet glad in the light of our youth.
Sudden some passing sound,—
The careless splash of an oar,
12
A shadow crossing the sun,
An unknown step in the hall,
A nothing, a folly, a straw!—
Back it returns—all—all!
Back with the rush of a storm,
Back the old anguish and ill,
The sad, green landscape of home,
The small grey house by the hill,
The wide grey shores of the lake,
The low sky, seeming to weave
Its tender pitiful arms
Round the sick lone landscape at eve.
Back with its pains and its wrongs,
Back with its toils and its strife,
Back with its struggle and woe,
Back flows the stream of our life.
Darkened with treason and wrong,
13
Bitter, tumultuous, fierce,
Yet glad in the light of our youth.
So, cold island, we stand
Here to-night on your shore,—
To-night, but never again,
Lingering a moment more.
See, beneath us our boat
Tugs at its tightening chain,
Holds out its sail to the breeze,
Pants to be gone again.
Off then with shouts and mirth,
Off with laughter and jests,
Jests and song on our lips,
Hearts like lead in our breasts.
Here to-night on your shore,—
To-night, but never again,
Lingering a moment more.
See, beneath us our boat
Tugs at its tightening chain,
Holds out its sail to the breeze,
Pants to be gone again.
Off then with shouts and mirth,
Off with laughter and jests,
Jests and song on our lips,
Hearts like lead in our breasts.
14
THE CHOICE
I
I who speak to you abide, with my choice on either side,
With my fortune all to win and all to wear.
Shall I take this proffered gain? Shall I keep the loss and pain,
With my own to live and bear?
With my fortune all to win and all to wear.
Shall I take this proffered gain? Shall I keep the loss and pain,
With my own to live and bear?
For the choice is open now, I must either stand or bow,
Secure this beckoning sunshine, or else accept the rain.
Must be banished with my own, or my race and faith disown?
Share the loss, or snatch the gain?
Secure this beckoning sunshine, or else accept the rain.
15
Share the loss, or snatch the gain?
Shall I pay the needed toll, just the purchase of a soul,
Heart and lips, faith and promises to sever?
Six centuries of strain, six centuries of pain,
Six centuries cry, “Never.”
Heart and lips, faith and promises to sever?
Six centuries of strain, six centuries of pain,
Six centuries cry, “Never.”
Then let who will abide, for me the Fates decide,
One road, and only one, for me they show.
There is room enough out there, room to pray, and room to dare,
Room out yonder—and I go!
One road, and only one, for me they show.
There is room enough out there, room to pray, and room to dare,
Room out yonder—and I go!
16
THE CHOICE
II
Heart of my heart, I sicken to be with you,
Heart of my heart, my only love and care;
Little I'd reck if ill or well you used me,
Heart of my heart, if I were only there.
Heart of my heart, my only love and care;
Little I'd reck if ill or well you used me,
Heart of my heart, if I were only there.
Heart of my heart, I faint, I pine to see you,
Christ! how I hate this alien sea and shore!
Gaily this night I'd sell my soul to see you,
Heart of my heart—whom I shall see no more.
Christ! how I hate this alien sea and shore!
Gaily this night I'd sell my soul to see you,
Heart of my heart—whom I shall see no more.
17
CREMONA
1702
Midwinter and midnight
Was the hour of that fight,
(Shout, boys, Erin's the renown!)
Every Frenchman soundly sleeping.
“Fortressed cities need no keeping;
Let the Irish guard the town.”
Was the hour of that fight,
(Shout, boys, Erin's the renown!)
Every Frenchman soundly sleeping.
“Fortressed cities need no keeping;
Let the Irish guard the town.”
Homesick, sad, and weary,
Heartsick, hungry, dreary,
(Shout, boys, Erin's the renown!)
O'Brien, Burke, and Tracy,
Macmahon, Dillon, Lacy,
We watched Cremona town.
Heartsick, hungry, dreary,
(Shout, boys, Erin's the renown!)
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Macmahon, Dillon, Lacy,
We watched Cremona town.
“What mean those distant sounds!”
As the famished panther bounds,
(Shout, boys, Erin's the renown!)
So he bounded through the gate.
“Rouse ye, comrades, ye are late!
Prince Eugene has your town!”
As the famished panther bounds,
(Shout, boys, Erin's the renown!)
So he bounded through the gate.
“Rouse ye, comrades, ye are late!
Prince Eugene has your town!”
The town, but not quite all:
On that furthest western wall
(Shout, boys, Erin's the renown!)
Sat a cheerless, sleepless band,
Far from home, and kith, and land.
“Up, boys, up! Save the town!”
On that furthest western wall
(Shout, boys, Erin's the renown!)
Sat a cheerless, sleepless band,
Far from home, and kith, and land.
“Up, boys, up! Save the town!”
19
“Down, and fight them in the streets!”
As the Nore the Barrow meets,
(Shout, boys, Erin's the renown!)
So we swept across their track,
Swept across, and hemmed them back
From Cremona town.
As the Nore the Barrow meets,
(Shout, boys, Erin's the renown!)
So we swept across their track,
Swept across, and hemmed them back
From Cremona town.
“Are ye mad, or in a trance?
Waken, gentlemen of France!”
(Shout, boys, Erin's the renown!)
“See your lilied flags are flapping,
And your Marshal is caught napping
In Cremona town.”
Waken, gentlemen of France!”
(Shout, boys, Erin's the renown!)
“See your lilied flags are flapping,
And your Marshal is caught napping
In Cremona town.”
Again and yet again,
Though the third of us are slain,
(Shout, boys, Erin's the renown!)
Though Sieur Villeroy is taken,
And the lilied flags are shaken,
Till our tardy comrades waken
We keep the town.
Though the third of us are slain,
(Shout, boys, Erin's the renown!)
20
And the lilied flags are shaken,
Till our tardy comrades waken
We keep the town.
Hither, thither goes the fight,
Through the murk and glare of night.
(Shout, boys, Erin's the renown!)
Every exiled son of Clare,
From Kinvarra to Adair,
The whole Brien stock is there,
In the black heart of the town.
Through the murk and glare of night.
(Shout, boys, Erin's the renown!)
Every exiled son of Clare,
From Kinvarra to Adair,
The whole Brien stock is there,
In the black heart of the town.
“Ha! they waken up at last!
Hark again, that rallying blast,”
(Shout, boys, Erin's the renown!)
“Now charge them with the lance,
Stop the German dogs' advance,
Drive them, gentlemen of France,
From Cremona town.”
Hark again, that rallying blast,”
(Shout, boys, Erin's the renown!)
21
Stop the German dogs' advance,
Drive them, gentlemen of France,
From Cremona town.”
“Back to back, and face to face,
Wrest from fate this night's disgrace”
(Shout, boys, Erin's the renown!)
Ere the sun rose from its bed
Or that livid dawn grew red
Every German spear had fled
From Cremona town.
Wrest from fate this night's disgrace”
(Shout, boys, Erin's the renown!)
Ere the sun rose from its bed
Or that livid dawn grew red
Every German spear had fled
From Cremona town.
So failed Eugene's advance,
So fail all foes of France!
(Shout, boys, Erin's the renown!)
Let her praises still resound,
And while the world goes round
To their praise too redound
Who stood the victors crowned
In Cremona town.
So fail all foes of France!
(Shout, boys, Erin's the renown!)
22
And while the world goes round
To their praise too redound
Who stood the victors crowned
In Cremona town.
23
AN EXILE'S MOTHER
There's famine in the land, its grip is tightening still,
There's trouble, black and bitter, on every side I glance,
There are dead upon the roadside, and dead upon the hill,
But my Jamie's safe and well away in France,
Happy France,
In the far-off, gay and gallant land of France.
There's trouble, black and bitter, on every side I glance,
There are dead upon the roadside, and dead upon the hill,
But my Jamie's safe and well away in France,
Happy France,
In the far-off, gay and gallant land of France.
The sea sobs to the grey shore, the grey shore to the sea.
Men meet and greet, and part again as in some evil trance,
There's a bitter blight upon us, as plain as plain can be,
But my Jamie's safe and well away in France,
Happy France,
In the far-off, gay and gallant land of France.
Men meet and greet, and part again as in some evil trance,
24
But my Jamie's safe and well away in France,
Happy France,
In the far-off, gay and gallant land of France.
Oh not for all the coinèd gold that ever I could name
Would I bring you back, my Jamie, from your song, and feast, and dance,
Would I bring you to the hunger, the weariness and shame,
Would I bring you back to Clare out of France,
Happy France,
From the far-off, gay and gallant land of France.
Would I bring you back, my Jamie, from your song, and feast, and dance,
Would I bring you to the hunger, the weariness and shame,
Would I bring you back to Clare out of France,
Happy France,
From the far-off, gay and gallant land of France.
25
I'm no great sleeper now, for the nights are cruel cold,
And if there be a bit or sup 'tis by some friendly chance,
But I keep my old heart warm, and I keep my courage bold
By thinking of my Jamie safe in France,
Happy France,
In the far-off, gay and gallant land of France.
And if there be a bit or sup 'tis by some friendly chance,
But I keep my old heart warm, and I keep my courage bold
By thinking of my Jamie safe in France,
Happy France,
In the far-off, gay and gallant land of France.
26
FONTENOY. 1745
I.—Before the Battle; night
Oh bad the march, the weary march, beneath these alien skies,
But good the night, the friendly night, that soothes our tired eyes.
And bad the war, the tedious war, that keeps us sweltering here,
But good the hour, the friendly hour, that brings the battle near.
That brings us on the battle, that summons to their share
The homeless troops, the banished men, the exiled sons of Clare.
But good the night, the friendly night, that soothes our tired eyes.
And bad the war, the tedious war, that keeps us sweltering here,
But good the hour, the friendly hour, that brings the battle near.
That brings us on the battle, that summons to their share
The homeless troops, the banished men, the exiled sons of Clare.
27
Oh little Corca Bascinn, the wild, the bleak, the fair!
Oh little stony pastures, whose flowers are sweet, if rare!
Oh rough and rude Atlantic, the thunderous, the wide,
Whose kiss is like a soldier's kiss which will not be denied!
The whole night long we dream of you, and waking think we're there,—
Vain dream, and foolish waking, we never shall see Clare.
Oh little stony pastures, whose flowers are sweet, if rare!
Oh rough and rude Atlantic, the thunderous, the wide,
Whose kiss is like a soldier's kiss which will not be denied!
The whole night long we dream of you, and waking think we're there,—
Vain dream, and foolish waking, we never shall see Clare.
The wind is wild to-night, there's battle in the air;
The wind is from the west, and it seems to blow from Clare.
Have you nothing, nothing for us, loud brawler of the night?
No news to warm our heart-strings, to speed us through the fight?
In this hollow, star-pricked darkness, as in the sun's hot glare,
In sun-tide, moon-tide, star-tide, we thirst, we starve for Clare!
The wind is from the west, and it seems to blow from Clare.
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No news to warm our heart-strings, to speed us through the fight?
In this hollow, star-pricked darkness, as in the sun's hot glare,
In sun-tide, moon-tide, star-tide, we thirst, we starve for Clare!
Hark! yonder through the darkness one distant rat-tat-tat!
The old foe stirs out there, God bless his soul for that!
The old foe musters strongly, he's coming on at last,
And Clare's Brigade may claim its own wherever blows fall fast.
Send us, ye western breezes, our full, our rightful share,
For Faith, and Fame, and Honour, and the ruined hearths of Clare.
The old foe stirs out there, God bless his soul for that!
The old foe musters strongly, he's coming on at last,
And Clare's Brigade may claim its own wherever blows fall fast.
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For Faith, and Fame, and Honour, and the ruined hearths of Clare.
30
II.—After the Battle; early dawn, Clare coast
“
Mary
mother, shield us! Say, what men are ye,
Sweeping past so swiftly on this morning sea?”
“Without sails or rowlocks merrily we glide
Home to Corca Bascinn on the brimming tide.”
Sweeping past so swiftly on this morning sea?”
“Without sails or rowlocks merrily we glide
Home to Corca Bascinn on the brimming tide.”
“Jesus save you, gentry! why are ye so white,
Sitting all so straight and still in this misty light?”
“Nothing ails us, brother; joyous souls are we
Sailing home together, on the morning sea.”
Sitting all so straight and still in this misty light?”
“Nothing ails us, brother; joyous souls are we
Sailing home together, on the morning sea.”
31
“Cousins, friends, and kinsfolk, children of the land,
Here we come together, a merry, rousing band;
Sailing home together from the last great fight,
Home to Clare from Fontenoy, in the morning light.
Here we come together, a merry, rousing band;
Sailing home together from the last great fight,
Home to Clare from Fontenoy, in the morning light.
“Men of Corca Bascinn, men of Clare's Brigade,
Harken, stony hills of Clare, hear the charge we made;
See us come together, singing from the fight,
Home to Corca Bascinn, in the morning light.”
Harken, stony hills of Clare, hear the charge we made;
See us come together, singing from the fight,
Home to Corca Bascinn, in the morning light.”
| With the Wild Geese | |