Farewell to the Merry Monger

Farewell, until death, to thy brightness and thy mirth,
Farewell from our priests, from the nobles of the Earth,
Farewell from the Fair, farewell to thee from all,
May it shield thee and shift thy pain's gloomy pall.

My want — my woe — my bitter grief and sorrow! —
That the gentlest, the gayest, most generous of sages,
The singer of sweet song — now the chill tempest rages,
Should wander forlorn, night and morrow.

MacCraith, 'tis to sing of thy merits I have sought,
Thou Master of Learning, thou Thinker of bright thought,
The darling of damsels, the bard of sunny brow,
True scion of Dalcassia's deedful race art thou.

Nigh green Maig river, 'tis woeful now to stand
And list the lament of the dwellers in the land,
Of the people, the priests, of the lordly and the low,
And see maidens mourn and tears in silence flow.

'Tis cause, sure, for gloom and for heaviness of heart,
A man should have left us, a faithful friend should part,
A bard of true poet-mind, generous of soul,
Should wander the peaks in dreariness and dole.

Ah, great is my grief that a mist should overcloud
The frank fiery mind of which the land was proud,
That woman should lure to darkness and disgrace
One who boasts poet-gifts and noble Irish race.

And yet, this has been since the earth was in its youth,
Lo, Paris of Troy to testify the truth, —
And Ajax, and Jason, for cause well-nigh the same
To battle and to die in foreign lands ye came.

And Aengus and David — 'twere weariness to mind
Of all who found fate for the sake of womankind,
Then wail not for aye thy falling from above,
Since mightier than thou bore the penalty of Love.

May hardships avoid thee, O dearest to my heart,
Be welcomes and gladness and feasts where'er thou art,
Be thy sky ever clear and thy spirit ever gay,
And my Blessing thy Shield against ev'ry ill for aye.