Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, PHASES OF THE CELTIC REVIVAL, by ALFRED DENNIS GODLEY


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

PHASES OF THE CELTIC REVIVAL, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Erin aboo! Though the desolate ocean
Last Line: Tread, if you dare, on the tail of my coat!
Alternate Author Name(s): Godley, A. D.
Subject(s): Ireland; Irish


ERIN aboo! though the desolate ocean
Sever my steps from the Gem of the Sea,
Why do I cry in a voice of emotion
'Slainte, mavourneen acushla machree'?

Lo! 'tis the National Spirit is on me --
Lo! in the Strand as I peaceably go,
Thinking of wrongs that the Saxon has done me,
Dreaming afar of the County Mayo.

How shall Ierne her sentiments utter,
How shall Hibernians their feelings express,
Robed by a Sassenach tailor and cutter?
Bring me, O bring me the National Dress!

Doomed by the Saxon his fashions to follow,
Long at the feet of his vestments I sat;
Now for a coat that is tailed like a swallow --
Stick a dudeen in the brim of my hat:

Ragged and torn be the frieze of my breeches,
Garter my shins with a hayrope or two --
Thus went the Chiefs of whom History teaches,
Parnell and Grattan and Brian Boru!

Erin! if e'er 'mid the wealth that is London's
Lightly I recked of the pride of Clonmel,
Snared for a while by the alien's abundance,
Won by the Westminster Palace Hotel --

'Twas not my heart her allegiance forsaking,
'Twas not affections that falter and fail:
'Twas that a coat of the Sassenach's making
Could not consort with the thoughts of the Gael!

Now, when my breast in the passions that stir it
(Phadrig! a tumbler, mo bouchal aroon!)
Feels the approach of the National Spirit
(Put in the sugar and mix with a spoon), --

Now, when I glow with a Nation's afflatus,
Garments I'll wear that my ardour denote:
Tyrants who crush us, and foemen who hate us,
Tread, if you dare, on the tail of my coat!





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