RUSH, dark dirge, o'er hills of Erin! Woe for Desmond's name and race! Loving conqueror whom the conquered caught so soon to her embrace: There's a veil on Erin's forehead: cold at last is Desmond's hand: -- Halls that roofed her outlawed prelates blacken like a blackening brand. Strongbow's sons forsook their strong one, served so long with loving awe; Roche the Norman, Norman Barry, and the Baron of Lixnaw: Gaelic lords -- that once were princes -- holp not -- Thomond or Clancar: Ormond, ill-crowned Tudor's kinsman, ranged her hosts, and led her war. One by one his brothers perished: fate down drew them to their grave: Smerwick's cliffs beheld his Spaniards wrestling with the yeasty wave. Swiftly sweep the eagles westward, gathering where the carcase lies: There's a blacker crowd behind them: vultures next will rend their prize. 'Twas not War that wrought the ruin! Sister portents, yoked for hire, Side by side dragged on the harrow -- Famine's plague, and plague of Fire: Slain the herds, and burned the harvests, vale and plain with corpses strown, 'Mid the waste they spread their feast; within the charnel reigned -- alone. In the death-hunt she was nigh him; she that scorned to leave his side: By her lord she stood and spake not, neck-deep in the freezing tide: Round them waved the osiers; o'er them drooped the willows, rank on rank: Troopers spurred; and bayed the bloodhounds, up and down the bleeding bank. From the East sea to the West sea rings the death-keen long and sore: Erin's curse be his that led them, found the hovel, burst the door! O'er the embers dead an old man silent bent with head to knee: Slowly rose he: backward fell they: -- 'Seek ye Desmond? I am he!' London Bridge! thy central archway props that grey head year by year: But to God that head is holy; and to Erin it is dear: When that bridge is dust, that river in the last fire-judgement dried, The man shall live who fought for God; the man who for his country died. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO A FRIEND by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD ON PLAYWRIGHT (1) by BEN JONSON O MAGNET-SOUTH by WALT WHITMAN WRITTEN ON THE LEAVES OF A FAN by FRANCIS ATTERBURY LILIES: 9. BENEATH LOFTIER STARS by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |