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IRISH SONGS AND LYRICS 403 |
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" This for my only asking, And then let might prevail,-
Patrick, give Gull MacMorna An iron tug to his flail.''
Patrick is dead, and Ossian;
Gull to his place is gone; But the words and the deeds of heroes
Linger in twilight on,—
In a twilight of fireside tellings
Lit by the poet's lay, Lighting the gloom of hardship,
The night of a needy day.
And still the Gael, as he listens In a land of mass and bell,
Under the hope of heaven, Under the dread of hell,
Thinks long, like age-spent Ossian, For the things that are no more,
For the clash of meeting weapons, And the mad delight of war. |
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IRELAND
I
RELAND, oh, Ireland ! centre of my longings, Country of my fathers, home of my heart! Overseas you call me : Why an exile from me ? Wherefore sea-severed, long leagues apart ? |
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