As Vanquish'd Erin
As vanquish’d Erin wept beside
The Boyne’s ill-fated river,
She saw where Discord, in the tide,
Had dropp’d his loaded quiver.
“Lie hid,” she cried, “ye venom’d darts,
Where mortal eye may shun you;
Lie hid the stain of manly hearts,
That bled for me, is on you.”
But vain her wish, her weeping vain
As Time too well hath taught her
Each year the Fiend returns again,
And dives into that water;
And brings, triumphant, from beneath
His shafts of desolation,
And sends them, wing’d with worse than death,
Through all her maddening nation.
Alas for her who sits and mourns,
Even now, beside that river
Unwearied still the Fiend returns,
And stored is still his quiver.
“When will this end, ye Powers of Good?”
She weeping asks for ever;
But only hears, from out that flood,
The Demon answer, “Never!”
Related poetry:
- Erin, Oh Erin Like the bright lamp, that shone in Kildare’s holy fane, And burn’d through long ages of darkness and storm, Is the heart that sorrows have frown’d on in vain, Whose spirit outlives them, unfading and warm. Erin, oh Erin, thus bright through the tears Of a long night of bondage, thy spirit appears. The nations […]...
- Let Erin Remember the Days of Old Let Erin remember the days of old, Ere her faithless sons betray’d her; When Malachi wore the collar of gold, Which he won from her proud invader, When her kings, with standard of green unfurl’d, Led the Red-Branch Knights to danger! Ere the emerald gem of the western world Was set in the crown of […]...
- The Little Boy Lost Nought loves another as itself Nor venerates another so. Nor is it possible to Thought A greater than itself to know: And Father, how can I love you, Or any of my brothers more? I love you like the little bird That picks up crumbs around the door. The Priest sat by and heard the […]...
- The Explanation Love and Death once ceased their strife At the Tavern of Man’s Life. Called for wine, and threw alas! Each his quiver on the grass. When the bout was o’er they found Mingled arrows strewed the ground. Hastily they gathered then Each the loves and lives of men. Ah, the fateful dawn deceived! Mingled arrows […]...
- Blue Evening My restless blood now lies a-quiver, Knowing that always, exquisitely, This April twilight on the river Stirs anguish in the heart of me. For the fast world in that rare glimmer Puts on the witchery of a dream, The straight grey buildings, richly dimmer, The fiery windows, and the stream With willows leaning quietly over, […]...
- Though the Last Glimpse of Erin With Sorrow I See Though the last glimpse of Erin with sorrow I see, Yet wherever thou art shall seem Erin to me; In exile thy bosom shall still be my home, And thine eyes make my climate wherever we roam. To the gloom of some desert or cold rocky shore, Where the eye of the stranger can haunt […]...
- Erin! The Tear and the Smile in Thine Eyes Erin! the tear and the smile in thine eyes Blend like the rainbow that hangs in thy skies, Shining through sorrow’s stream, Saddening through pleasure’s beam, Thy suns with doubtful gleam, Weep while they rise. Erin, thy silent tear never shall cease, Erin, thy languid smile ne’er shall increase, Till, like the rainbow’s light, Thy […]...
- We are the time. We are the famous We are the time. We are the famous Metaphor from Heraclitus the Obscure. We are the water, not the hard diamond, The one that is lost, not the one that stands still. We are the river and we are that greek That looks himself into the river. His reflection Changes into the waters of the […]...
- Leudeman's-on-the-River Toward even when the day leans down, To kiss the upturned face of night, Out just beyond the loud-voiced town I know a spot of calm delight. Like crimson arrows from a quiver The red rays pierce the water flowing, While we go dreaming, singing, rowing, To Leudeman’s-on-the-River. The hills, like some glad mocking-bird, Send […]...
- On Kusu Terrace The old gardens of Kusu Terrace Are a wilderness, yet the willows That remain still put out new branches; Lasses gathering water chestnuts Sing so loudly and with such Clarity, that the feeling of spring Returns to us; but where once stood The palace of the King of Wu, now Only the moon over the […]...
- The Weeping I have shut my windows. I do not want to hear the weeping. But from behind the grey walls. Nothing is heard but the weeping. There are few angels that sing. There are few dogs that bark. A thousand violins fit in the palm of the hand. But the weeping is an immense angel. The […]...
- The Song of the Darling River The skies are brass and the plains are bare, Death and ruin are everywhere And all that is left of the last year’s flood Is a sickly stream on the grey-black mud; The salt-springs bubble and the quagmires quiver, And this is the dirge of the Darling River: ‘I rise in the drought from the […]...
- Mermaid, Dragon, Fiend In my childhood rumors ran Of a world beyond our door- Terrors to the life of man That the highroad held in store. Of mermaids’ doleful game In deep water I heard tell, Of lofty dragons belching flame, Of the hornèd fiend of Hell. Tales like these were too absurd For my laughter-loving ear: Soon […]...
- Danger With what a childish and short-sighted sense Fear seeks for safety; recons up the days Of danger and escape, the hours and ways Of death; it breathless flies the pestilence; It walls itself in towers of defence; By land, by sea, against the storm it lays Down barriers; then, comforted, it says: “This spot, this […]...
- The River Of Rivers In Connecticut There is a great river this side of Stygia Before one comes to the first black cataracts And trees that lack the intelligence of trees. In that river, far this side of Stygia, The mere flowing of the water is a gayety, Flashing and flashing in the sun. On its banks, No shadow walks. The […]...
- The River In my first sleep I came to the river And looked down Through the clear water – Only in dream Water so pure, Laced and undulant Lines of flow On its rocky bed Water of life Streaming for ever. A house was there Beside the river And I, arrived, An expected guest About to explore […]...
- The Paroo It was a week from Christmas-time, As near as I remember, And half a year since, in the rear, We’d left the Darling timber. The track was hot and more than drear; The day dragged out for ever; But now we knew that we were near Our camp – the Paroo River. With blighted eyes […]...
- River Moons THE DOUBLE moon, one on the high back drop of the west, one on the curve of the river face, The sky moon of fire and the river moon of water, I am taking these home in a basket, hung on an elbow, such a teeny weeny elbow, in my head. I saw them last […]...
- In The Willow Shade I sat beneath a willow tree, Where water falls and calls; While fancies upon fancies solaced me, Some true, and some were false. Who set their heart upon a hope That never comes to pass, Droop in the end like fading heliotrope The sun’s wan looking-glass. Who set their will upon a whim Clung to […]...
- On Sir Thomas Savill Dying Of The Small Pox Take, greedy death, a body here entomd That by a thousand stroakes was made one wound, Where all thy shafts were stuck with fatall ayme Untill a quiver this thy marke became, Had Cжsar fifty wounds to let in thee Because a troop of men might seeme to bee Comprised in that great Spirit, this […]...
- Immortality In Sleeping Beauty’s castle The clock strikes one hundred years And the girl in the tower returns to the world. So do the servants in the kitchen, Who don’t even rub their eyes. The cook’s right hand, lifted An exact century ago, Completes its downward arc To the kitchen boy’s left ear; The boy’s tensed […]...
- The Way At first a mere thread of a footpath half blotted Out by the grasses Sweeping triumphant across it, it wound between hedges of roses Whose blossoms were poised above leaves as pond lilies float on The water, While hidden by bloom in a hawthorn a bird filled the morning with Singing. It widened a highway, […]...
- The Road That Runs Beside The River follows the river as it bends Along the valley floor, Going the way it must. Where water goes, so goes the road, If there’s room (not in a ravine, Gorge), the river On your right or left. Left is better: when you’re driving, It’s over your elbow across The road. You see the current, which […]...
- In The Slight Ripple, The Mind Perceives The Heart In the slight ripple, the fishes dart Like fingers, centrifugal, like wishes Wanton. And pleasures rise as the eyes fall Through the lucid water. The small pebble, The clear clay bottom, the white shell Are apparent, though superficial. Who would ask more of the August afternoon? Who would dig mines and follow shadows? “I would,” […]...
- The Perch Perch on their water perch hung in the clear Bann River Near the clay bank in alder dapple and waver, Perch they called ‘grunts’, little flood-slubs, runty and ready, I saw and I see in the river’s glorified body That is passable through, but they’re bluntly holding the Pass, Under the water-roof, over the bottom, […]...
- Not Works Grace, triumphant in the throne, Scorns a rival, reigns alone; Come and bow beneath her sway; Cast your idol works away! Works of man, when made his plea, Never shall accepted be; Fruits of pride (vainglorious worm!) Are the best he can perform. Self, the god his soul adores, Influences all his powers; Jesus is […]...
- A Love Song from the North Tell me no more of thy love, papeeha, Wouldst thou recall to my heart, papeeha, Dreams of delight that are gone, When swift to my side came the feet of my lover With stars of the dusk and the dawn? I see the soft wings of the clouds on the river, And jewelled with raindrops […]...
- Fisherfolk I like to look at fishermen And oftentimes I wish One would be lucky now and then And catch a little fish. I watch them statuesquely stand, And at the water look; But if they pull their float to land It’s just to bait a hook. I ponder the psychology That roots them in their […]...
- Puritans Sidling upon the river, the white boat Has volleyed with its cannon all the morning, Shaken the shore towns like a Judgment warning, Telling the palsied water its demand That the crime come to the top again, and float, That the sunk murder rise to the light and land. Blam! In the noon’s perfected brilliance […]...
- THE PARIS COMMUNE From the French of Andrй Frйnaud France was born there and it is from there she sings Of Joan of Ark and Varlin both. We must dig deep, o motherland, Beneath those heavy cobbles. Country of the Commune, so dear to me, My very own which make my blood burn And that same blood will […]...
- Waterfall at Lu-shan Sunlight streams on the river stones. From high above, the river steadily plunges Three thousand feet of sparkling water The Milky Way pouring down from heaven....
- Mabel Osborne Your red blossoms amid green leaves Are drooping, beautiful geranium! But you do not ask for water. You cannot speak! You do not need to speak Everyone knows that you are dying of thirst, Yet they do not bring water! They pass on, saying: “The geranium wants water.” And I, who had happiness to share […]...
- Year that Trembled YEAR that trembled and reel’d beneath me! Your summer wind was warm enough-yet the air I breathed froze me; A thick gloom fell through the sunshine and darken’d me; Must I change my triumphant songs? said I to myself; Must I indeed learn to chant the cold dirges of the baffled? And sullen hymns of […]...
- Willow Poem It is a willow when summer is over, A willow by the river From which no leaf has fallen nor Bitten by the sun Turned orange or crimson. The leaves cling and grow paler, Swing and grow paler Over the swirling waters of the river As if loth to let go, They are so cool, […]...
- The Kessack Ferry-Boat Fatality ‘Twas on Friday the 2nd of March, in the year of 1894, That the Storm Fiend did loudly laugh and roar Along the Black Isle and the Kessack Ferry shore, Whereby six men were drowned, which their friends will deplore. The accident is the most serious that has occurred for many years, And their relatives […]...
- Sonnet XVII: His Mother Dear Cupid His mother dear Cupid offended late, Because that Mars grown slacker in her love, With pricking shot he did not throughly more To keep the pace of their first loving state. The boy refus’d for fear of Mars’s hate, Who threaten’d stripes, if he his wrath did prove: But she in chafe him from her […]...
- The Collision in the English Channel ‘Twas on a Sunday morning, and in the year of 1888, The steamer “Saxmundham,” laden with coal and coke for freight, Was run into amidships by the Norwegian barque “Nor,” And sunk in the English Channel, while the storm fiend did roar. She left Newcastle on Friday, in November, about two o’clock, And proceeded well […]...
- The Art Of Poetry To gaze at a river made of time and water And remember Time is another river. To know we stray like a river And our faces vanish like water. To feel that waking is another dream That dreams of not dreaming and that the death We fear in our bones is the death That every […]...
- The river at whitebrook the winding wye Curls into my senses Feliniously There’s no such word But no such river Merely exists Where this river slivers Between the dream And the time i camped by it Has left a furmark On my inward skin It takes only a wet thought For hunchbacked woods And a drift of mist Lifting […]...
- Modern Love XIV: What Soul Would Bargain What soul would bargain for a cure that brings Contempt the nobler agony to kill? Rather let me bear on the bitter ill, And strike this rusty bosom with new stings! It seems there is another veering fit Since on a gold-haired lady’s eyeballs pure, I looked with little prospect of a cure, The while […]...