The Spirit of Song

A dark mist druidic closed o'er me
As, wearied of woods and astray,
I saw the weird lake gleam before me
Of Blarney, and fain I would stay:
The branches of blossoms drooped over
When, sudden, She came to my side,
In beauty far fairer than lover
Had ever, since Eden, espied!

My heart beat with rapture, and brightened
My soul to that Sprite from above;
The smile from her blue eyes that lightened
Sent my bosom a-thrilling with love.
berry-red cheeks! and O cluster
Of curling gold hair to the knee!
I could gaze the whole night on your lustre
And the night seem a minute to me!

"The Brink of White Rocks r has it been a
Retreat for thy beauty? "I said,
"Art thou Aine, or Miorras, or Cliona,
O gentle and snowy-palmed maid?
Art thou Deirdre, whose wonderful fairness
Lured a Crimson Branch Knight o'er the sea?
Hast thou tidings of rue or of rareness
From wand'rings to whisper to me?"

"For the clans of high Miled I'm grieving,
Of that flower of the brave is my race,
And long I have mourned in Ban-eeving
To hear their gay cheer in the chase.
But hark! of the Viscount of Blarney
Soon the voice in yon turrets shall ring,
And our Exile be victor in war, nay!
Three islands shall crown him their king.

"These tidings thy kinsmen to charm or
To frighten their foes bear away,
Our warriors in Spain don their armour,
And swift sailing barks fill the bay:
They'll wing to green Erinn, their way, tide
And tempest shall scatter the foe,
And Freedom shall gladden ere May-tide
The true-hearted Lordly and Low.

"O Bard, skilled in musical cadence,
Come flee with me down to Tyrone,
Where an hundred of silken-bright maidens
In druid enchantment are thrown.
We'll have festivals, dancing, and gladness,
The harps shall their melodies pour,
The fairest shall love thee to madness,
And youth shall rejoice thee once more.

"O Bridi, of Fairies the fairest!
An thou give but a month and a day,
To prepare for the life thou preparest,
I'll haste to thy side and away.
The beloved of my youth I must give her
Farewell, and my blessing for aye;
Then from thee, Spirit sweet, if I sever,
May I swiftly go down to the clay!"