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IRISH SONGS AND LYRICS 119 |
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Tell how his boyhood was one drear night-hour,
How shone for him, through his griefs and gloom, No star of all heaven sends to light our Path to the tomb. |
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Roll on, my song, and to after-ages
Tell how, disdaining all earth can give, He would have taught men from wisdom's pages The way to live. |
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And tell how trampled, derided, hated,
And worn by weakness, disease, and wrong, He fled for shelter to God, who mated
His soul with song — |
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With song which alway, sublime or vapid, Flowed like a rill in the morning beam, Perchance not deep, but intense and rapid — A mountain stream. |
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Tell how the Nameless, condemned for years long
To herd with demons from hell beneath, Saw things that made him, with groans and tears, long For even death. |
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Go on to tell how, with genius wasted
Betrayed in friendship, befooled in love, With spirit shipwrecked, and young hopes blasted He still, still strove. |
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