Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, IRELAND WEEPING, by WILLIAM LIVINGSTON (1808-1870)


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

IRELAND WEEPING, by                    
First Line: Utmost island of europe, loveliest land
Last Line: Foxes stretched without breath, and their blood humming on the ground!
Subject(s): Ireland; Irish


UTMOST island of Europe, loveliest land under the canopy of the skies, often did
I see your coast over the great roaring sound of the sea.

When a mild wind blew from the south-east and the firmament was without mist
or cloud, the Gaels in the Rhinns of Islay told one another of your loveliness,

Of your grassy goodly plains, level Lag an Rotha and Magh Aoidh, and your
branchy dells that gave shelter to the winged minstrels of the trees.

Of your pure fountains gurling spring-water, your numerous herds among your
glens, your woods and hills and meads and greenery from end to end.

In the guiltless morning of youth I got the tales of the ages gone by at the
hearth of Islay of Clan Donald, ere the Gaels were exiled from their heritage,

The welcoming company who loved to tell the tale of Innis Fail; the fables of
the worthy hospitable ones told in the harmonious modes of the bards.

We little ones believed the stories we thus heard from the mouths of the old,
and believed, therefore, that you were still as in these heroic tales -- joyful,
exultant, happy.

To-day I see unchanged your sky-line over the sea from the wave-beaten shore
of south Islay, but gloomy to tell is your condition now.

A tale of the woe of yoke and exile, of famine, grief, and injustice, with no
way to relieve your pain, since you yourself broke your strength.

Where is the heroism of the three Hughs, heroic O'Donell and O'Neill, and
MacGuidhir hurling himself without hestation upon the foe and standing to death
before he yielded?

Where is the race of the brave that did not evade battle at Dun a' Bheire,
when they poured down like a mountain flood under the rims of their speckled
shields?

The rocks answering with an echo, to the triumphant shout on the field; the
foxes stretched without breath, and their blood humming on the ground!





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