The Fate and Fortunes of Hugh O'Neill, Earl of Tyrone, and Rory O'Donel, Earl of Tyrconnel: Their Flight from Ireland, Their Vicissitudes Abroad, and Their Death in Exile
J. Duffy, 1870 - 651 Seiten
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Seite 570 - Then, daughter of O'Donnell! dry Thine overflowing eyes, and turn Thy heart aside! For Adam's race is born to die, And sternly the sepulchral urn Mocks human pride! Look not, nor sigh for earthly throne, Nor place thy trust in arm of clay — But on thy knees Uplift thy soul to God alone, For all things go their destined way As He decrees.
Seite 569 - The Chief had been untimely lost, Our conquering troops should moderate Their mirthful glee. There would not lack on Lifford's day, From Galway, from the glens of Boyle, From Limerick's towers, A marshalled file, a long array Of mourners to bedew the soil With tears in showers! If on the day a sterner fate Compelled his flight from Athenree, His blood had flowed, What numbers all disconsolate, Would come unasked, and share with thee Affliction's load! If...
Seite 569 - Fergus' banks But slain our chief, When rose his camp in wild alarm — How would the triumph of his ranks Be dashed with grief! How would the troops of Murbach mourn If on the Curlew Mountains...
Seite 570 - O mighty Lord ! whose ways Are far above our feeble minds To understand, Sustain us in these doleful days...
Seite 566 - O, horses' hoofs would trample down The Mount whereon the martyr-saint Was crucified. From glen and hill, from plain and town, One loud lament, one thrilling plaint Would echo wide. There would not soon be found, I ween One foot of ground among those bands For museful thought, So many shriekers of the keen Would cry aloud, and clap their hands, All woe-distraught!
Seite 568 - Were slain, all Ulster would have mourned The hero's doom ! If at Athboy, where hosts of brave Ulidian horsemen sank beneath The shock of spears, Young Hugh O'Neill had found a grave, Long must the North have wept his death With heart-wrung tears...
Seite 568 - Were scarce an eric for his head, If death had stayed his footsteps while On victory's track ! If on the Day of Hostages The fruit had from the parent bough Been rudely torn In sight of Munster's bands — Mac-Nee's — Such blow the blood of Conn, I trow, Could ill have borne.
Seite 565 - O, Woman of the Piercing Wail, Who mournest o'er yon mound of clay With sigh and groan, Would God thou wert among the Gael ! Thou would'st not then from day to day Weep thus alone. 'Twere long before, around a grave In green Tirconnell, one could find This loneliness; Near where Beann-Boirche's banners wave Such grief as thine could ne'er have pined Compassionless.
Seite 153 - Majesty's happy government will work a greater miracle in this kingdom than ever St. Patrick did ; for St. Patrick did only banish the poisonous worms, but suffered the men full of poison to inhabit the land still ; but his Majesty's blessed genius will banish all those generations of vipers out of it, and make it ere it be long a right fortunate island.
Seite 567 - O'Niall's son, Their mate in death — A prince in look, in deed, and word — Had these three heroes yielded on The field their breath, O, had they fallen on Criffan's plain, There would not be a town or clan From shore to sea But would with shrieks bewail the Slain Or chant aloud the exulting rann Of jubilee!