| Share page | Visit Us On FB |
|
IRISH SONGS AND LYRICS |
||
|
And gleaned the gray legend that long had been sleeping,
Where oblivion's dull mist o'er its beauty was creeping,
From the love which I felt for my country's sad story,
When to love her was shame, to revile her was glory !
Least bard of the free ! were it mine to inherit The fire of thy harp and the wing of thy spirit, With the wrongs which, like thee, to my own land
have bound me, Did your mantle of song throw its radiance around me; Yet, yet on those bold cliffs might Liberty rally; And abroad send her cry o'er the sleep of each valley. But rouse thee, vain dreamer ! no fond fancy cherish, Thy vision of Freedom in bloodshed must perish.
I soon shall be gone—though my name may be spoken When Erin awakes, and her fetters are broken — Some minstrel will come in the summer eve's gleaming, When Freedom's young light on his spirit is beaming, To bend o'er my grave with a tear of emotion, Where calm Avonbuee seeks the kisses of ocean, And a wild wreath to plant from the banks of that
river O'er the heart and the harp that are silent forever. |
||
|
|
||