T

WILLIAM CARLETON

(1798–1869)

A SIGH FOR KNOCKMANY

AKE, proud ambition, take thy fill

Of pleasures won through toil or crime; Go, learning, climb thy rugged hill,

And give thy name to future time. Philosophy, be keen to see

Whate'er is just, or false, or vain ; Take each thy meed, but oh, give me To range my mountain glens again.

Pure was the breeze that fanned my cheek,
As o'er Knockmany's brow I went ;
When every lovely dell could speak

In airy music, vision-sent.

False world, I hate thy cares and thee;
I hate the treacherous haunts of men;
Give back my early heart to me,

Give back to me my mountain glen.

How light my youthful visions shone
When spanned by Fancy's radiant form!
But now her glittering bow is gone,

And leaves me but the cloud and storm;
With wasted form and cheek all pale,
With heart long seared by grief and pain,
Dunroe, I'll seek thy native gale,

I'll tread my mountain glens again.

Thy breeze once more may fan my blood,
The valleys all are lovely still;
And I may stand as once I stood,
In lonely musings on thy hill.
But ah! the spell is gone.
No art

In crowded town, or native plain,
Can teach a crushed and breaking heart
To pipe the songs of youth again.

JOHN KEEGAN CASEY
(1846-1870)

DONAL KENNY

OME, piper, play the Shaskan Reel,'
Or else the Lasses on the heather,'
And, Mary, lay aside your wheel

Until we dance once more together.

At fair and pattern1 oft before

Of reels and jigs we've tripped full many; But ne'er again this loved old floor Will feel the foot of Donal Kenny."

Softly she rose and took his hand,

And softly glided through the measure, While, clustering round, the village band Looked half in sorrow, half in pleasure. Warm blessings flowed from every lip

As ceased the dancers' airy motion : O Blessed Virgin! guide the ship

Which bears bold Donal o'er the ocean!

he sighed,

"Now God be with you all! Adown his face the bright tears flowing — "God guard you well, avic," they cried, "Upon the strange path you are going.'

1 Pattern, patron saint, a saint's day.

So full his breast, he scarce could speak,

With burning grasp the stretched hands taking,

He pressed a kiss on every cheek,

And sobbed as if his heart was breaking.

"Boys, don't forget me when I'm gone,
For sake of all the days passed over
The days you spent on heath and bawn
With Donal Ruadh, the rattlin' rover.
Mary, agra, your soft brown eye

Has willed my fate" (he whispered lowly); "Another holds thy heart: good-bye! Heaven grant you both its blessings holy!"

A kiss upon her brow of snow,

A rush across the moonlit meadow, Whose broom-clad hazels, trembling slow, The mossy boreen wrapped in shadow; Away o'er Tully's bounding rill,

And far beyond the Inny river;

One cheer on Carrick's rocky hill,
And Donal Kenny's gone forever.

The breezes whistled through the sails,

O'er Galway Bay the ship was heaving,
And smothered groans and bursting wails
Told all the grief and pain of leaving.
One form among that exiled band

Of parting sorrow gave no token,
Still was his breath, and cold his hand:
For Donal Kenny's heart was broken.

I

PLACED the silver in her palm,

By Inny's smiling tide,

And vowed, ere summer time came on,
To claim her as a bride.

But when the summer time came on,
I dwelt beyond the sea;

Yet still my heart is ever true
To Gracie Og Machree.

O bonnie are the woods of Targ,
And green thy hills, Rathmore,
And soft the sunlight ever falls
On Darre's sloping shore;
And there the eyes I love-in tears

Shine ever mournfully,

While I am far, and far away

From Gracie Og Machree.

When battle-steeds were neighing loud,
With bright blades in the air,
Next to my inmost heart I wore
A bright tress of her hair.
When stirrup-cups were lifted up
To lips, with soldier glee,
One toast I always fondly pledged,
'Twas Gracie Og Machree.

1 Gracie óg mo-chroidhe, young Gracie of my heart.