The Poetical Works of Ebenezer Elliott Edited by his Son Edwin Elliott ... A New and Revised Edition: Two Volumes |
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ERIN, A DIRGE, FOR APRIL, 1847. |
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 | The Poetical Works of Ebenezer Elliott |  |
ERIN, A DIRGE, FOR APRIL, 1847.
Oh, for snow, strange April snow,
Cold and cheap! a shroud of woe
For pale dead Erin's nakedness!
Snow-clad Broom, oh, drooping broom,
Hearse of snow, of plumes a plume,
Weep over Erin coffinless!
Cold and cheap! a shroud of woe
For pale dead Erin's nakedness!
Snow-clad Broom, oh, drooping broom,
Hearse of snow, of plumes a plume,
Weep over Erin coffinless!
There are colder things than snow,
Sadder things than death and woe,
Proud Rapine's cold hard-heartedness!
And that saddest, helpless pain
Which, when struck, strikes not again!
Now wordless, lifeless, coffinless.
Sadder things than death and woe,
Proud Rapine's cold hard-heartedness!
And that saddest, helpless pain
Which, when struck, strikes not again!
Now wordless, lifeless, coffinless.
Insect, that would'st God enthrall!
Earning nought and taking all!
Art thou thy country's nothingness?
Man! whom that vile insect's will
Yet may torture, starve, and kill!
Remember Erin coffinless.
Earning nought and taking all!
225
Man! whom that vile insect's will
Yet may torture, starve, and kill!
Remember Erin coffinless.
How men treat subjected man,
When they may do what they can,
Well knows scourged India's wofulness;
Well, Bengal, thy famish'd dead
(Victim-myriads o'er thee spread!)
Forespoke of Erin coffinless.
When they may do what they can,
Well knows scourged India's wofulness;
Well, Bengal, thy famish'd dead
(Victim-myriads o'er thee spread!)
Forespoke of Erin coffinless.
Oh, thou snow-clad forest-bough!
In thy sun-lit glory now,
Laugh not at death's wide wastefulness;
But lament, while brightly glows
April's noon o'er Winter snows,
A nation dead and coffinless!
In thy sun-lit glory now,
Laugh not at death's wide wastefulness;
But lament, while brightly glows
April's noon o'er Winter snows,
A nation dead and coffinless!
And—oh! pale unshrouded one,
Cover'd by the heav'ns alone!
A white sheet now shall cover thee:
Help is vain, but help is nigh;
And thy friend, the pitying sky
Shall throw a cold sheet over thee.
Cover'd by the heav'ns alone!
A white sheet now shall cover thee:
Help is vain, but help is nigh;
And thy friend, the pitying sky
Shall throw a cold sheet over thee.
| The Poetical Works of Ebenezer Elliott | |