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IRISH SONGS AND LYRICS 117 |
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Swords, and chariots, and a phantom fray: Then all vanished. The warm skies were blushing In the Dawning of the Day.
Cities girt with glorious gardens, Whose immortal Habitants in robes of light Stood, methought, as angel-wardens Nigh each portal, Now arose to daze my sight. Eden spread around, revived and blooming, When lo ! as I gazed, all passed away — I saw but black rocks and billows looming In the dim chill Dawn of Day.
THE GRAVE, THE GRAVE
Mahlmann.
BLEST are the dormant In death : they repose From bondage and torment, From passions and woes, From the yoke of the world and the snares of the
traitor. The grave, the grave is the true liberator !
Griefs chase one another
Around the earth's dome :
In the arms of the mother
Alone is our home.
Woo pleasure, ye triflers ! The thoughtful are wiser :
The grave, the grave is their one tranquillizer 1 |
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