And men sore wounded themselves drew nigh
No war-note peal'd through the gorges green;
But the black pines echo'd the mourners' keen.
What said the Invader, that pomp in sight?
"They sue for the pity they shall not win."
But the sick King sat on his Bier upright,
And said, "So well! I shall sleep to-night:--
And the whole clan rush'd to the battle plain:
They were thrice driven back, but they closed
'Twas a nation, not army, that onward rush'd,
'Twas a nation's blood from their wounds that
Bare-bosom'd they fought, and with joy were
Till evening their blood fell fast like rain;
But a shout swelled up o'er the setting sun,
And O'Donnell died, for the field was won.
So they buried their King upon Aileach's shore;
Just deeds, blabbed, have found their price!
The fire-glare showed,'mid glaze and blister,
And the chieftains of Thomond in Limerick's
He rode ten miles and he cross'd the ford,
Till, left and right, on march'd in sight
"Charge!" Sarsfield cried; and the green hill-
They rode o'er the plain and they rode o'er the
He burn'd the gear the knaves held dear,--
With powder he cramm'd the guns, and ramm'd
The spark flash'd out--like a nation's shout
The hosts of the sky made to earth reply,
|Does any man dream that a Gael can fear?--
Of a thousand deeds let him learn but one!
The Shannon swept onward, broad and clear,
"Break down the bridge!"--Six warriors rushed
Through the storm of shot and the storm of
They wrenched at the planks 'mid a hail of fire:
They fell in death, their work half done:
The bridge stood fast; and nigh and nigher
Who hurl yon planks where the waters roar?"
Six warriors forth from their comrades broke,
And flung them upon that bridge once more.
The huge beams groaned, and the arch down
St Ruth in his stirrups stood up, and cried,
"I have seen no deed like that in France!"
With a toss of his head Sarsfield replied,
Of the twain that breasted that raging tide,
|A fair lady once, with her young lover walked,
Through a garden, and sweetly they laughed
While the dews fell over the mulberry tree.
She gave him a rose--while he sighed for a kiss,
Quoth he, as he took it, "I kiss thee in this,"
While the dews fall over the mulberry tree.
She gave him a lily less white than her breast,
Quoth he, "'Twill remind me of one I love best,"