| Share page | Visit Us On FB |
|
IRISH SONGS AND LYRICS |
||
|
WILLIAM ALLINGHAM(i824-i889)
ABBEY ASAROE
G
RAY, gray is Abbey Asaroe, by Ballyshanny town, It has neither door nor window, the walls are broken down; The carven stones lie scattered in briars and nettle-bed; The only feet are those that come at burial of the
dead. A little rocky rivulet runs murmuring to the tide, Singing a song of ancient days, in sorrow, not in
pride; The bore-tree and the lightsome ash across the portal
grow, And heaven itself is now the roof of Abbey Asaroe.
It looks beyond the harbor-stream to Gulban mountain
blue; It hears the voice of Erna's fall,—Atlantic breakers
too; High ships go sailing past it; the sturdy clank of oars Brings in the salmon-boat to haul a net upon the
shores; And this way to his home-creek, when the summer
day is done, Slow sculls the weary fisherman across the setting sun ; While green with corn is Sheegus Hill, his cottage
white below; But gray at every season is Abbey Asaroe. |
||