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44 THE GOLDEN TREASURY OF |
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DENIS FLORENCE MacCARTHY (1817-1882)
BLESS THE DEAR OLD VERDANT LAND
BLESS the dear old verdant land ! Brother, wert thou born of it! As thy shadow life doth stand Twining round its rosy band, Did an Irish mother's hand
Guide thee in the morn of it ? Did a father's first command Teach thee love or scorn of it ?
Thou who tread'st its fertile breast,
Dost thou feel a glow for it ? Thou of all its charms possest, Living on its first and best, Art thou but a thankless guest
Or a traitor foe for it, If thou lovest, where's the test?
Wilt thou strike a blow for it ?
Has the past no goading sting That can make thee rouse for it ?
Does thy land's reviving, spring,
Full of buds and blossoming,
Fail to make thy cold heart cling, Breathing lover's vows for it? |
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