The Dream of John Macdonnell

I lay in unrest — old thoughts of pain,
That I struggled in vain to smother,
Like midnight spectres haunted my brain —
Dark fantasies chased each other ;
When, lo ! a figure — who might it be ?
A tall fair figure stood near me !
Who might it be ? An unreal Banshee ?
Or an angel sent to cheer me ?

Though years have rolled since then, yet now
My memory thrillingly lingers
On her awful charms, her waxen brow,
Her pale translucent fingers ; —
Her eyes that mirrored a wonder world,
Her mien of unearthly mildness,
And her waving raven tresses that curled
To the ground in beautiful wildness.

"Whence comest thou, Spirit?" I asked, methought,
"Thou art not one of the Banished?"
Alas for me ! she answered nought,
But rose aloft and vanished ;
And a radiance, like to a glory, beamed
In the light she left behind her;
Long time I wept, and at last me-dreamed
I left my shieling to find her.

And first I turned to the thunderous North,
To Gruagach's mansion kingly ;
Untouching the earth, I then sped forth
To Inver-lough, and the shingly
And shining strand of the fishful Erne,
And thence to Croghan the golden,
Of whose resplendent palace ye learn
So many a marvel olden !

I saw the Mourna's billows flow —
I passed the walls of Shenady,
And stood in the hero-thronged Ardroe,
Embossed amid greenwoods shady ;
And visited that proud pile that stands
Above the Boyne's broad waters,
Where Engus dwells with his warrior bands
And the fairest of Ulster's daughters.

To the halls of Mac-Lir, to Creevroe's height,
To Tara, the glory of Erin,
To the fairy palace that glances bright
On the peak of the blue Cnocfeerin,
I vainly hied. I went west and east —
I travelled seaward and shoreward —
But thus was I greeted in field and at feast—
"Thy way lies onward and forward !"

At last I reached, I wist not how,
The royal towers of Ival,
Which, under the cliff's gigantic brow,
Still rise without a rival ;
And here were Thomond's chieftains all,
With armour, and swords, and lances ;
And here sweet music filled the hall,
And damsels charmed with dances.

And here, at length, on a silvery throne,
Half seated, half reclining,
With forehead white as the marble stone,
And garments so starrily shining,
And features beyond the poet's pen —
The sweetest, saddest features —
Appeared before me once again,
That fairest of Living Creatures !

" Draw near, O mortal !" she said, with a sigh,
" And hear my mournful story !
The guardian Spirit of Erin am I,
But dimmed is mine ancient glory.
My priests are banished, my warriors wear
No longer Victory's garland ;
And my Child, my Son, my beloved Heir,
Is an exile in a far land !"

I heard no more — I saw no more —
The bands of slumber were broken ;
And palace and hero, and river and shore,
Had vanished, and left no token.
Dissolved was the spell that had bound my will,
And my fancy thus for a season ;
But a sorrow therefore hangs over me still,
Despite of the teachings of Reason !