Kind gods, assist me! let me not die a traitor! Is cast away, without a grave or name, Some man who fears the gods, and loves not traitors, She ceased for very weakness, but her words But finding that she could not stand, they brought And quickly loosed the band that bound her waist, And on the soldiers bore her through the streets, PERCY SOMERS PAYNE SON of the Rev. Somers Payne, of Upton, County Cork. He died in 1874, aged twenty-four. He contributed to Kottabos two or three poems marked by an intensity and sincerity of feeling, and a certain creative power, which gave promise of high distinction. 1 T. W. R. Cf. Juv. SAT. viii: Tumes alto Drusorum stemmate.' REST SILENCE sleeping on a waste of ocean- Where some rocky peak containeth her rude nest; For the shadows o'er the waters they come stealing, And they whisper to the silence: There is Rest.' Down where the broad Zambesi River Glides away into some shadowy lagoon Feels the atmosphere, with fragrance all opprest; Dreams his dreams; and the sweetest is the knowing That above him, and around him, there is Rest. Centuries have faded into shadow, Earth is fertile with the dust of man's decay; Pilgrims all they were to some bright El-dorado, But they wearied, and they fainted, by the way. Some were sick with the surfeiture of pleasure, Some were bow'd beneath a care-encumber'd breast; But they all trod in turn Life's stately measure, And all paused betimes to wonder, 'Is there Rest?' Look, O man to the limitless Hereafter, When thy Sense shall be lifted from its dust, And the passion-haunted fever of thy being INDEX TO FIRST LINES PAGE A CABIN on the mountain-side hid in a grassy nook A nation's voice, a nation's voice A plenteous place is Ireland for hospitable cheer A poor old cottage tottering to its fall A spirit speeding down on All Souls' Eve. A star has gone! a star has gone! A terrible and splendid trust A wind that dies on the meadows lush 489 379 308 216 442 62 467 427 Adieu to Belashanny! where I was bred and born 371 Adown the leafy lane we two 186 Ah, see the fair chivalry come, the companions of Christ 468 Ah, sweet Kitty Neil, rise up from that wheel 75 All day in exquisite air 414 All hail! Holy Mary, our hope and our joy! An' the thought of us each was the boat; och, however'd she stand As beautiful Kitty one morning was tripping 432 At night what things will stalk abroad At the mid hour of night, when stars are weeping, I fly Away from the town, in the safe retreat BARD! to no brave chief belonging 16 48 102 417 45 448 63 Behold the world's great wonder Beloved, do you pity not my doleful case Beloved, gaze in thine own heart Beyond, beyond the mountain line Bring from the craggy haunts of birch and pine But the rain is gone by, and the day's dying out in a splendour Buttercups and daisies in the meadow By memory inspired By the foot of old Keeper, beside the bohreen By the shore a plot of ground CAN the depths of the ocean afford you not graves Céad míle fáilte ! child of the Ithian Cean duv deelish, beside the sea Child in thy beauty; empress in thy pride Chill the winter, cold the wind Come! pledge again thy heart and hand Come, tell me, dearest mother, what makes my father stay Count each affliction, whether light or grave Crom Cruach and his sub-gods twelve Deep in Canadian woods we've met. 'Did they dare-did they dare, to slay Owen Roe O'Neill ?'. Did ye hear of the Widow Malone Do you remember, long ago. Dry be that tear, my gentlest love EACH nation master at its own fireside FAIR our fleet at Castle Sweyn. Far are the Gaelic tribes and wide Far from the churchyard dig his grave Far out beyond our sheltered bay Farewell! the doom is spoken. All is o'er Fled foam underneath us and round us, a wandering and milky smoke For many a mile the tawny mountains heaved From a Munster vale they brought her. From the ocean half a rood From what dripping cell, through what fairy glen GET up, our Anna dear, from the weary spinning-wheel Girl of the red mouth 305 85 144 Go not to the hills of Erin Good men and true! in this house who dwell Great fabric of oppression Great woods gird me now around HAD I a heart for falsehood framed Hail to our Keltic brethren, wherever they may be Have you been at Carrick, and saw you my true-love there Have you e'er a new song He came across the meadow-pass He grasped his ponderous hammer; he could not stand it more. He said that he was not our brother. Heard'st thou over the Fortress wild geese flying and crying? Here are the needs of manhood satisfied! His locks are whitened with the snows of nigh a hundred years. How hard is my fortune. How sweet the answer Echo makes How sweetly keen, how stirred the air! Hush! hear you how the night wind keens around the craggy reek. 477 528 556 179 344 315 481 458 487 226 232 484 320 416 502 532 235 |