Yet must it not be said that we Like his whom lately death had ta'en, Between us rolls! Too few, too few, among our great, Too few, of all the brave we trace He toiled to make our story stand, By fancies false; erect, alone, He narshalled Brian on the plain, Fell Norman as he was and fierce- O'er all low limits still his mind On Irish soil he only saw One State, One People, and One Law, One Destiny. Truth was his solitary test, His star, his chart, his east, his west; Nor is there aught In text, in ocean, or in mine, Of greater worth, or more divine With gentle hand he rectified The story of our devious past. And left it, as it now must last, TO DUFFY IN PRISON 'TWAS but last night I traversed the Atlantic's furrow'd face- I saw once more the dome-like brow, the large and lustrous eyes; My friend my friend!—oh, would to God that you were here with me A-watching in the starry West for Ireland's liberty! Oh, brothers, I can well declare, who read it like a scroll, Like an oak upon our native hills, a host might camp there-under, Like a convoy from the flag-ship our fleet is scattered far, And I, whom most you lov'd, am here, and I can but indite They will bring you in their manacles beneath their blood-red rag The oak will be the oak, and honoured e'en when fell’d. Change is brooding over earth; it will find you 'mid the main, And, throned between its wings, you'll reach your native land again. INFELIX FELIX Phelim or Felix O'Neill, leader of the rising of 1641, which began the Nine Years' War. He was executed in Dublin by Cromwell, after having refused to purchase liberty by implicating Charles I. in the rebellion. WHY is his name unsung, O minstrel host? Why do ye pass Infelix Felix by? He rose the first-he looms the morning-star Has she not abhorr'd All who for Ireland ventured life or word? What memory would she not have cast away He rose in wrath to free his fetter'd land. He sent untimely to the Stygian shore. He slew them his whole race to liberate. O clear-eyed poets! ye who can descry If ev'n his hand and hilt were so distain'd- I mourn for thee, O hero of the North- SALUTATION TO THE KELTS HAIL to our Keltic brethren, wherever they may be, One in name and in fame Are the sea-divided Gaels. Though fallen the state of Erin, and changed the Scottish land, Though small the power of Mona, though unwaked Lewellyn's band, Though Ambrose Merlin's prophecies are held as idle tales, One in name and in fame Are the sea-divided Gaels. In Northern Spain and Italy our brethren also dwell The Eagle or the Crescent in the dawn of history pales One in name and in fame Are the sea-divided Gaels. A greeting and a promise unto them all we send ; One in name and in fame Are the sea-divided Gaels. DENIS FLORENCE MCCARTHY DENIS FLORENCE MCCARTHY was born in Dublin in 1817. He began to write for The Nation in 1843, and was a frequent and valued contributor to it, both in prose and poetry. He also wrote for The Dublin University Magazine and other periodicals of the day. He was appointed Professor of English Literature and Poetry in the Catholic University of Ireland in 1854, and died in 1882. He was an industrious writer, having produced five volumes of original verse as well as numerous translations from Calderon, and his work was always on a high level. The strain of indignant satire in 'Cease to do Evil' does not often recur his imagination dwelt rather on the sweet and gracious aspects of life and Nature, and these he rendered in verse marked by sincere feeling, wide culture, and careful though unpretentious art. BALLADS, POEMS, AND LYRICS was published in Dublin, 1850; ODE ON THE DEATH OF THE EARL OF BELFAST, 1854; UNDER-GLIMPSES AND OTHER POEMS, 1857; THE BELL-FOUNDER AND OTHER POEMS, 1857; THE CENTENARY OF MOORE, 1880. His collected poems have been published (with many omissions) in Dublin 1884. In 1846 he edited THE BOOK OF IRISH BALLADS and THE POETS AND DRAMATISTS OF IRELAND. |