| Share page | Visit Us On FB |
|
26 THE GOLDEN TREASURV OF |
||
|
Dimly burneth the lamp—hush ! again that horrible
cry!— If a thousand lives could save thee, Tierna, thou shouldest not die." |
||
|
" Now ! what whisper ye, Clansmen ? I wake. Be
your words of me ? Wherefore gaze on each other ? I too have heard
the Ban-shee. Death is her message: but ye, be silent. Death
comes to no man Sweet as to him who in fighting crushes his country's
foeman. |
||
|
" Streak of dawn in the sky—morning of battle. The
Stranger Camps on our salt-sea strand below, and recks not
his danger. Victory !—that was my dream : one that shall fill
men's ears In story and song of harp after a thousand years. |
||
|
" Give me my helmet and sword. Whale-tusk, gold-wrought, I clutch thee!
Blade, Flesh-Biter, fail me not this time ! Yea, when I touch thee,
Shivers of joy run through me. Sing aloud as I swing thee!
Glut of enemies' blood, meseemeth, to-day shall bring thee. |
||