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ioo THE GOLDEN TREASURY OF |
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0 SAY, MY BROWN DRIMIN •
Translated from the Irish.
O
say, my brown Drimin, thou silk of the kine,2 Where, where are thy strong ones, last hope of thy line? Too deep and too long is the slumber they take, At the loud call of freedom, why don't they awake ?
My strong ones have fallen—from the bright eye of
day All darkly they sleep in their dwelling of clay; The cold turf is o'er them;—they hear not my cries, And since Louis no aid gives I cannot arise.
O I where art thou, Louis, our eyes are on thee ? Are thy lofty ships walking in strength o'er the sea ? In freedom's last strife if you linger or quail, No morn e'er shall break on the night of the Gael.
But should the king's son, now bereft of his right, • Come, proud in his strength, for his country to fight; Like leaves on the trees will new people arise, And deep from their mountains shout back to my cries.
1 Drimin is the favourite name of a cow, by which Ireland is here allegorically denoted. The five ends of Erin are the five kingdoms—Munster, Leinster, Ulster, Connaught, and Meath—into which the island was divided under the Milesian dynasty.—Callanan.
J Silk of the cows, an idiomatic expression for the most beautiful of cattle. |
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