Bulchevy's Book of English Verse Part 121

SEE yon blithe child that dances in our sight!

Can gloomy shadows fall from one so bright?

Fond mother, whence these fears?

While buoyantly he rushes o'er the lawn, Dream not of clouds to stain his manhood's dawn, Nor dim that sight with tears.

No cloud he spies in brightly glowing hours, But feels as if the newly vested bowers For him could never fade: Too well we know that vernal pleasures fleet, But having him, so gladsome, fair, and sweet, Our loss is overpaid.

Amid the balmiest flowers that earth can give Some bitter drops distil, and all that live A mingled portion share; But, while he learns these truths which we lament, Such fort.i.tude as ours will sure be sent, Such solace to his care.

Gerald Griffin. 1803-1840

663. Eileen Aroon

WHEN like the early rose, Eileen Aroon!

Beauty in childhood blows, Eileen Aroon!

When, like a diadem, Buds blush around the stem, Which is the fairest gem?-- Eileen Aroon!

Is it the laughing eye, Eileen Aroon!

Is it the timid sigh, Eileen Aroon!

Is it the tender tone, Soft as the string'd harp's moan?

O, it is truth alone,-- Eileen Aroon!

When like the rising day, Eileen Aroon!

Love sends his early ray, Eileen Aroon!

What makes his dawning glow, Changeless through joy or woe?

Only the constant know:-- Eileen Aroon!

I know a valley fair, Eileen Aroon!

I knew a cottage there, Eileen Aroon!

Far in that valley's shade I knew a gentle maid, Flower of a hazel glade,-- Eileen Aroon!

Who in the song so sweet?

Eileen Aroon!

Who in the dance so fleet?

Eileen Aroon!

Dear were her charms to me, Dearer her laughter free, Dearest her constancy,-- Eileen Aroon!

Were she no longer true, Eileen Aroon!

What should her lover do?

Eileen Aroon!

Fly with his broken chain Far o'er the sounding main, Never to love again,-- Eileen Aroon!

Youth must with time decay, Eileen Aroon!

Beauty must fade away, Eileen Aroon!

Castles are sack'd in war, Chieftains are scatter'd far, Truth is a fixed star,-- Eileen Aroon!

James Clarence Mangan. 1803-1849

664. Dark Rosaleen

O MY Dark Rosaleen, Do not sigh, do not weep!

The priests are on the ocean green, They march along the deep.

There 's wine from the royal Pope, Upon the ocean green; And Spanish ale shall give you hope, My Dark Rosaleen!

My own Rosaleen!

Shall glad your heart, shall give you hope, Shall give you health, and help, and hope, My Dark Rosaleen!

Over hills, and thro' dales, Have I roam'd for your sake; All yesterday I sail'd with sails On river and on lake.

The Erne, at its highest flood, I dash'd across unseen, For there was lightning in my blood, My Dark Rosaleen!

My own Rosaleen!

O, there was lightning in my blood, Red lightning lighten'd thro' my blood.

My Dark Rosaleen!

All day long, in unrest, To and fro, do I move.

The very soul within my breast Is wasted for you, love!

The heart in my bosom faints To think of you, my Queen, My life of life, my saint of saints, My Dark Rosaleen!

My own Rosaleen!

To hear your sweet and sad complaints, My life, my love, my saint of saints, My Dark Rosaleen!

Woe and pain, pain and woe, Are my lot, night and noon, To see your bright face clouded so, Like to the mournful moon.

But yet will I rear your throne Again in golden sheen; 'Tis you shall reign, shall reign alone, My Dark Rosaleen!

My own Rosaleen!

'Tis you shall have the golden throne, 'Tis you shall reign, and reign alone, My Dark Rosaleen!

Over dews, over sands, Will I fly, for your weal: Your holy delicate white hands Shall girdle me with steel.

At home, in your emerald bowers, From morning's dawn till e'en, You'll pray for me, my flower of flowers, My Dark Rosaleen!

My fond Rosaleen!

You'll think of me through daylight hours, My virgin flower, my flower of flowers, My Dark Rosaleen!

I could scale the blue air, I could plough the high hills, O, I could kneel all night in prayer, To heal your many ills!

And one beamy smile from you Would float like light between My toils and me, my own, my true, My Dark Rosaleen!

My fond Rosaleen!

Would give me life and soul anew, A second life, a soul anew, My Dark Rosaleen!

O, the Erne shall run red, With redundance of blood, The earth shall rock beneath our tread, And flames wrap hill and wood, And gun-peal and slogan-cry Wake many a glen serene, Ere you shall fade, ere you shall die, My Dark Rosaleen!

My own Rosaleen!

The Judgement Hour must first be nigh, Ere you can fade, ere you can die, My Dark Rosaleen!

James Clarence Mangan. 1803-1849

665. The Nameless One

ROLL forth, my song, like the rus.h.i.+ng river, That sweeps along to the mighty sea; G.o.d will inspire me while I deliver My soul of thee!

Tell thou the world, when my bones lie whitening Amid the last homes of youth and eld, That once there was one whose veins ran lightning No eye beheld.

Tell how his boyhood was one drear night-hour, How shone for him, through his griefs and gloom, No star of all heaven sends to light our Path to the tomb.