Shane Bwee; or, The Captivity of the Gaels

'TWAS by sunset ... I walked and wandered
Over hill-sides... and over moors,
With a many sighs and tears.
Sunk in sadness,... darkly pondered
All the wrongs our... lost land endures
In these latter night-black years.

"How," I mused, " has her worth departed!
What a ruin... her fame is now!
We, once freest of the Free,
We are trampled... and broken-hearted;
Yea, even our Princes... themselves must bow
Low before the vile Shane Bwee!"1

Nigh a stream, in... a grassy hollow,
Tired, at length, I... lay down to rest —
There the birds and balmy air
Bade new reveries... and cheerier follow,
Waking newly... within my breast
Thoughts that cheated my despair.

"Was I waking... or was I dreaming?
I glanced up, and... behold! there shone
Such a vision over me!
A young girl, bright... as Erin's beaming
Guardian spirit — now sad and lone,
Through the Spoiling of Shane Bwee!

O, for pencil... to paint the golden
Locks that waved in... luxuriant sheen
To her feet of stilly light!
(Not the Fleece that... in ages olden
Jason bore o'er... the ocean green
Into Hellas, gleamed so bright.)

And the eyebrows... thin-arched over
Her mild eyes, and... more, even more
Beautiful, methought, to see
Than those rainbows... that wont to hover
O'er our blue island-lakes of yore
Ere the Spoiling by Shane Bwee!

"Bard!1' she spake, "deem... not this unreal.
I was niece of... a Pair whose peers
None shall see on Earth agen —
ÆONGUS CON, and... the Dark O'NiALL,
Rulers over... Tern in years
When her sons as yet were Men.

Times have darkened;... and now our holy
Altars crumble,... and castles fall;
Our groans ring through Christendee.
Still, despond not! HE comes, though slowly,
He, the Man, who shall disenthral
The PROUD CAPTIVE of Shane Bwee!"

Here she vanished;... and I, in sorrow,
Blent with joy, rose... and went my way
Homeward over moor and hill.
O, Great God! Thou... from whom we borrow
Life and strength, unto Thee I pray!

Thou, who swayest at Thy will
Hearts and councils,... thralls, tyrants, freemen,
Wake through Europe... the ancient soul,
And on every shore and sea,
From the Blackwater to the Dniemen,
Freedom's Bell will... ere long time toll
The deep death-knell of Shane Bwee!

g. fomentation:
FOR
THE DEATH OF SIR MAURICE FITZGERALD, KNIGHT