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274 THE GOLDEN TREASURY OF |
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Our rude array's a jagged rock to smash the spoiler's
power — Or, need we aid, his aid we have who doomed this
gracious hour; Of yore he led his Hebrew host to peace through
strife and pain, And us he leads the self-same path the self-san.e goal
to gain.
Down from the sacred hills whereon a saint' communed with God,
Up from the vale where Bagenal's blood manured tht reeking sod,
Out from the stately woods of Truagh M'Kenna's plundered home,
Like Malin's waves, as fierce and fast, our faithful clansmen come.
Then, brethren, on! O'Neill's dear shade would
frown to see you pause — Our banished Hugh, our martyred Hugh, is watching
o'er your cause — His generous error lost the land—he deemed the
Norman true; Oh, forward, friends, it must not lose the land again
in you !
1 St. Patrick, whose favorite retreat was Lecale, in the County Down. |
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