| Share page | Visit Us On FB |
|
122 THE GOLDEN TREASURY OF |
||
|
WILLIAM CARLETON (1798-1869)
A SIGH FOR KNOCKMANY
T
AKE, proud ambition, take thy fill Of pleasures won through toil or crime; Go, learning, climb thy rugged hill, And give thy name to future time. Philosophy, be keen to see
Whate'er is just, or false, or vain; Take each thy meed, but oh, give me To range my mountain glens again.
Pure was the breeze that fanned my cheek,
As o'er Knockmany's brow I went; When every lovely dell could speak
In airy music, vision-sent. False world, I hate thy cares and thee;
I hate the treacherous haunts of men; Give back my early heart to me,
Give back to me my mountain glen.
How light my youthful visions shone
When spanned by Fancy's radiant form ! But now her glittering bow is gone,
And leaves me but the cloud and storm; With wasted form and cheek all pale,
With heart long seared by grief and pain, Dunroe, I'll seek thy native gale,
I'll tread my mountain glens again. |
||