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318 THE GOLDEN TREASURY OF |
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J. L. FORREST
{Living)
THE BANSHEE'S SONG
" y^V'ER the wild heath I roam, II On the night wind I come; And Beauty shall pale At the voice of my wail!
Husk ! hark to my tidings of gloom and of sorrow ! Go, weep tears of blood, for—Och / d'eag an chorra !
" With the stranger the brave
Hath now found him a grave;
And in beauty and bloom
He hath sunk to the tomb !
Oh, never for Desmond shall beam forth a morrow;
For in death cold he lies— Och ! d'eag an chorra /
" Woe, woe, wild and deep ! Wake, fair one, and weep ! Wail, wail, wail, wildly wail At the voice of my tale 1
Go, go ! henceforth life is a burden and sorrow ! For thy heart's pulse is stricken—Och ! d'eag an chorra /"
Shrieking the Phantom fled. I came and found The maiden lying lifeless on the ground. |
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