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IRISH MELODIES. |
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By the red cloud that hung over Conor's dark dwelling,* When Ulad's f three champions lay sleeping in gore —
By the billows of war, which so often, high swelling, Have wafted these heroes to victory's shore —
"We swear to revenge them !— no joy shall be tasted, The harp shall be silent, the maiden unwed,
Our halls shall be mute and our fields shall lie wasted, Till vengeance is wreak'd on the murderer's head !
Yes, monarch! though sweet are our home recollections, Though sweet are the tears that from tenderness fall;
Though sweet are our friendships, our hopes, our affections, Revenge on a tyrant is sweetest of all!
in high repute as one of the three tragic stories of the Irish. These are, ' The death of the children of Touran;' ' The death of the children of Lear' (both regarding Tuatha de Danans); and this, ' The death of the children of Usnach,' which is a Milesian story." It will be recollected that, in another part of these Melodies, there is a ballad upon the story of the children of Lear or Lir; " Silent, oh Moyle 1" &c.
Whatever may be thought of those sanguine claims to antiquity, which Mr. O'FIanagan and others advance for the literature of Ireland, it would be a very lasting reproach upon our nationality, if the Gaelic researches of this gentleman did not meet with all the liberal encouragement they merit.
* " Oh Nasi I view that cloud that I here see in the sky! I see over Eman-green a chilling cloud of blood-tinged red." — Seirdri's Song. " ■ -f Ulster. |
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