THOUGH time effaces memory, And griefs the bosom harden, I'll ne'er forget, where'er I be, That day at Killenarden; For there, while fancy revelled wide, The summer's day flew o'er me; The friends I loved were at my side, And Irish fields before me. The road was steep; the pelting showers Had cooled the sod beneath us; And there were lots of mountain flowers, A garland to enwreathe us. Far, far below the landscape shone With wheat and new-mown meadows, And as o'erhead the clouds flew on, Beneath swept on their shadows. O friends, beyond the Atlantic's foam There may be nobler mountains, And in our new far Western home Green fields and brighter fountains; But as for me, let time destroy All dreams, but this one pardon, And barren memory long enjoy That day on Killenarden. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD: PASTORAL 3. THE HAPPY COUNTRYMAN by NICHOLAS BRETON SEA POPPIES by HILDA DOOLITTLE WHAT MY LOVER SAID by HOMER GREENE FAST ANCHOR'D ETERNAL O LOVE! by WALT WHITMAN THE BARTHOLDI STATUE by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER THE LAY OF THE LEVITE by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN POLYHYMNIA: VERSES TO LORD NORREYS, SELECTION by WILLIAM BASSE |