Keene; or, Lament of an Irish Mother over Her Son Far Away

Darkly the cloud of night comes rolling on;
Darker is thy repose, my fair-hair’d son!
Silent and dark!

There is blood upon the threshold
Whence thy step went forth at morn
Like a dancer’s in its fleetness,
O my bright first-born!

At the glad sound of that footstep
My heart within me smiled;--
Thou wert brought me back all silent
On thy bier, my child!

Darkly the cloud of night comes rolling on;
Darker is thy repose, my fair-hair’d son!
Silent and dark!

I thought to see thy children
Laugh on me with thine eyes;
But my sorrow’s voice is lonely
Where my life’s flower lies.

I shall go to sit beside thee,
Thy kindred’s graves among;
I shall hear the tall grass whisper--
I shall not hear it long.

Darkly the cloud of night comes rolling on;
Darker is thy repose, my fair-hair’d son!
Silent and dark!

And I, too, shall find slumber
With my lost one in the earth;--
Let none light up the ashes
Again on our hearth!

Let the roof go down!--let silence
On the home for ever fall,
Where my boy lay cold, and heard not
His lone mother’s call!

Darkly the cloud of night comes rolling on;
Darker is thy repose, my fair-hair’d son!
Silent and dark!

Far away!--my home is far away,
Where the blue sea laves a mountain-shore;
In the woods I hear my brothers play,
Midst the flowers my sister sings once more,
Far away!

Far away!--my dreams are far away,
When at midnight stars and shadows reign:
“Gentle child!” my mother seems to say,
“Follow me where home shall smile again,
Far away!”

Far away!--my hope is far away,
Where love’s voice young gladness may restore.
--O thou dove! now soaring through the day,
Lend me wings to reach that better shore,
Far away!