Poems (Ford)/Erin
ERIN.
She sits, a crownless, captive queen,
Beside the heaving main;
Around her brow a cypress-wreath,
And on her limbs a chain;
And as the sorrow-laden years
Drag wearily along,
The mighty ocean sobs to hear
Her melancholy song.
Beside the heaving main;
Around her brow a cypress-wreath,
And on her limbs a chain;
And as the sorrow-laden years
Drag wearily along,
The mighty ocean sobs to hear
Her melancholy song.
She strikes the harp with trembling hand,
And, as she sadly sings,
Her tears like gems are glittering
Among the wailing strings;
The quivering chords that yet remain
Can only tell of woe;
Those breathing strains of triumph high
Were broken long ago.
And, as she sadly sings,
Her tears like gems are glittering
Among the wailing strings;
The quivering chords that yet remain
Can only tell of woe;
Those breathing strains of triumph high
Were broken long ago.
Down through the vistas of the past
She sees, with tearful gaze,
The glorious light that Freedom shed
Around those vanished days
When Art and Science, nursling yet,
To Britons rude unknown,
Were fostered by her generous hand,
And sheltered by her throne.
She sees, with tearful gaze,
The glorious light that Freedom shed
Around those vanished days
When Art and Science, nursling yet,
To Britons rude unknown,
Were fostered by her generous hand,
And sheltered by her throne.
When Learning and Religion roamed,
Twin pilgrims, hand in hand,
By War's dread fury forced to flee
From many a mourning land,
They in her arms a refuge sought,
And gorgeous shrine and dome
Sprang up to give the weary ones
A shelter and a home.
Twin pilgrims, hand in hand,
By War's dread fury forced to flee
From many a mourning land,
They in her arms a refuge sought,
And gorgeous shrine and dome
Sprang up to give the weary ones
A shelter and a home.
Then in her radiant loveliness
She stood serenely fair;
No sorrow bowed her sunny brow,
Her heart was free from care;
By royal bards her praise was sung
In grand and lofty strain;
Her hosts were mighty on the land,
Her ships upon the main.
She stood serenely fair;
No sorrow bowed her sunny brow,
Her heart was free from care;
By royal bards her praise was sung
In grand and lofty strain;
Her hosts were mighty on the land,
Her ships upon the main.
But soon a fearful tempest swept
Her cloudless morning o'er—
The Sea Kings with their savage hordes
Came from their frozen shore;
They came to plunder and to slay,
And fierce and deadly strife
Did Erin wage through many an age
For liberty and life.
Her cloudless morning o'er—
The Sea Kings with their savage hordes
Came from their frozen shore;
They came to plunder and to slay,
And fierce and deadly strife
Did Erin wage through many an age
For liberty and life.
At last she saw her sunny plains
From the invaders free;
The spoilers from her shores were hurled
Into the yawning sea;
Each shrine and hall from ruin rose
More fair than it had been,
And laurels wreathed the radiant brow
Of Ocean's peerless Queen.
From the invaders free;
The spoilers from her shores were hurled
Into the yawning sea;
Each shrine and hall from ruin rose
More fair than it had been,
And laurels wreathed the radiant brow
Of Ocean's peerless Queen.
Then ages upon ages fled
On golden wings away;
A flood of splendor Genius shed
O'er that unclouded day;
Her sages bore to many lands
Their stores of precious lore,
While pilgrims from far nations sought
For wisdom on her shore.
On golden wings away;
A flood of splendor Genius shed
O'er that unclouded day;
Her sages bore to many lands
Their stores of precious lore,
While pilgrims from far nations sought
For wisdom on her shore.
The wily Saxon came at last
To curse her sacred soil;
His artful snares were round her thrown
In many a serpent coil;
One base and traitor-hearted son
Was found her foes to aid,
Like him who in Gethsemane
His Lord and Friend betrayed.
To curse her sacred soil;
His artful snares were round her thrown
In many a serpent coil;
One base and traitor-hearted son
Was found her foes to aid,
Like him who in Gethsemane
His Lord and Friend betrayed.
Then Erin's robe of green was dyed
In many a hero's blood;
Unconquered still, where fell the last
Another bravely stood,
And though whole centuries of wrong
And tyranny have passed
Since then, each year has found her still
Unconquered as the last.
In many a hero's blood;
Unconquered still, where fell the last
Another bravely stood,
And though whole centuries of wrong
And tyranny have passed
Since then, each year has found her still
Unconquered as the last.
Her language a forbidden sound,
Her ancient faith a crime,
Her children hunted o'er the seas
To many a foreign clime,
Her very name a word of scorn—
Yet all can not destroy
The chainless soul that, unsubdued,
Burns in her kindling eye.
Her ancient faith a crime,
Her children hunted o'er the seas
To many a foreign clime,
Her very name a word of scorn—
Yet all can not destroy
The chainless soul that, unsubdued,
Burns in her kindling eye.
In weary bondage now she sits,
Forsaken and alone;
Her hoary locks and tattered robe
By wild winds rudely blown;
But though the night be dark and drear,
And hoarse the tempest raves,
A glorious light forever gleams
Around her heroes' graves.
Forsaken and alone;
Her hoary locks and tattered robe
By wild winds rudely blown;
But though the night be dark and drear,
And hoarse the tempest raves,
A glorious light forever gleams
Around her heroes' graves.
Her star of hope shines brightly yet,
And never shall grow dim;
Her song of sorrow soon shall change
To a triumphal hymn;
From tyranny's dead ashes yet
She, phœnix-like, shall soar,
In the full blaze of Freedom's light
To dwell forevermore.
And never shall grow dim;
Her song of sorrow soon shall change
To a triumphal hymn;
From tyranny's dead ashes yet
She, phœnix-like, shall soar,
In the full blaze of Freedom's light
To dwell forevermore.