Poems (Ford)/The Lady's Leap

THE LADY'S LEAP.
A LEGEND.

'T was in the golden era past,
Of which our minstrels sing,
When Erin had no tyrant lords,
And owned no foreign king—
The long-past ages that yet shed
A flood of fadeless glory
Upon the clouded pages of
Her dark and blood-stained story,
A stately castle reared its towers
Beside Killarney's waters,
And there a beauteous lady dwelt,
The star of Erin's daughters.

With heart as stainless as the snow,
And voice like falling fountains,
And step as fleet as the wild roe
Upon her native mountains;
The sunlight of her ancient halls,
The proud and great caressed her;
With generous heart and lavish hand,
The poor and needy blessed her;
But all in vain to win her love
Had prince and chieftain striven—
As easy 't were to win a star
From the blue fields of heaven.

A point juts out beneath the trees,
Whose giant branches meet,
And there the lady strayed one morn,
May's first sweet smile to greet;
Soon strains of witching harmony
Came floating o'er the tide,
And earthward, on his foaming steed,
She saw the Lake King ride;
And as she heard his white steed's hoofs
Upon the pebbles ring,
Bowed every tree its leafy brow
To greet its native king.

His helmet, crowned with snowy plumes,
The spirit-chieftain raised,
And low before the lady bent,
Who in mute wonder gazed.
"Lady, I dwell where blazing gems
Light ocean's deepest caves;
My courtiers wait in halls of light,
Beneath the crystal waves;
When seven May mornings shall have passed,
If thou to me art true,
Queen of my palace thou shalt be,
Beneath the waters blue."

Six Mays, with hawthorn blossoms crowned,
And robed in beauty, passed;
The lady to her love was true—
The seventh came at last;
She wept at leaving home and friends,
To see them nevermore,
Then turned to meet the Water King,
Who waited near the shore:
Her white hand waved a last farewell,—
Down from the rocky steep
She sprang, and ever since that spot
Is called "The Lady's Leap."

Soft strains of wild, sweet music woke
The echoes on the shore,—
The lady with the chieftain fled,
None ever saw them more;
But when the bright May morning dawns
O'er hill and vale and glen,
And wakes to life all beauteous things
To gladden earth again,
Strains of enchanting melody
Come floating o'er the tide,
As on the morn the Water King
Bore off his beauteous bride.