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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
IRELAND'S DEAD, by LIONEL PIGOT JOHNSON Poem Explanation Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: Immemorial holy land | |||
Immemorial Holy Land! At thine hand, thy sons await Immemorial Holy Land; Any fate: they understand At thine hand, thy sons await Thee, the all compassionate. Be it death for thee, they grieve Any fate: they understand Thee, the all compassionate. Nought, to leave the fight aside: Thou their pride, they undeceive Death, by death unterrified. Be it death for thee, they grieve Mother, dear and fair to us, Nought, to leave the light aside: Ever thus to be adored! Thou their pride, they undeceive Is thy sword grown timorous, Death, by death unterrified. Mother of misericord? For thy dead is grief on thee? Can it be, thou dost repent, That they went, thy chivalry, Mother, dear and fair to us, Those sad ways magnificent? Ever thus to be adored! What, and if their heart's blood flow? Is thy sword grown timorous, Gladly so, with love divine, Mother of misericord? Since not thine the overthrow, They thy fields incarnadine. Hearts afire with one sweet flame, For thy dead is grief on thee? Can it be, thou dost repent, One loved name, thine host adores: That they went, thy chivalry, Conquerors, they overcame Death, high Heaven's inheritors. Those sad ways magnificent. For their loyal love, nought less, Than the stress of death, sufficed: Now with Christ, in blessedness, What, and if their heart's blood flow? Triumph they, imparadised. Gladly so, with love divine, Mother, with so dear blood stained! Since not thine the overthrow, Freedom gained through love befall They thy fields incarnadine. Thee, by thraldom unprofaned, Perfect and imperial! Hearts afire with one sweet flame, Still the ancient voices ring: One loved name, thine host adores: Faith they bring, and fear repel. Conquerors, they overcame Time shall tell thy triumphing, Death, high Heaven's inheritors. Victress and invincible! For their loyal love, nought less, Than the stress of death, sufficed: Now with Christ, in blessedness, Triumph they, imparadised. Mother, with so dear blood stained! Freedom gained through love befall Thee, by thraldom unprofaned, Perfect and imperial! Still the ancient voices ring: Faith they bring, and fear repel. Time shall tell thy triumphing, Victress and invincible | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CHURCH OF A DREAM; TO BERNHARD BERENSON by LIONEL PIGOT JOHNSON THE DARK ANGEL by LIONEL PIGOT JOHNSON A FRIEND by LIONEL PIGOT JOHNSON CELTIC SPEECH by LIONEL PIGOT JOHNSON ENTHUSIASTS by LIONEL PIGOT JOHNSON FRIENDS: 4 by LIONEL PIGOT JOHNSON HILL AND VALE by LIONEL PIGOT JOHNSON LOVE'S WAYS by LIONEL PIGOT JOHNSON MYSTIC AND CAVALIER by LIONEL PIGOT JOHNSON |
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