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IRISH SONGS AND LYRICS 137 |
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Black woe shall follow, the ship of doom is here — She hath not sailed the Irish hills since the famine year."
On past the sandhills, through the waving bent, Right up the village street the tall spectre went; And watchers by the windows saw towering sail and
mast, And a low sound of water and wind seethed past.
Like a dust-cloud of summer that whirlwinds left, On past the houses they watched the vessel drift, Till she rose and then sank again on a hilltop high, And the lights of her hull vanished mid the stars of the sky.
What ship is this ? Is her name on earth known That can pass without piercing of the granite stone, Which can sail o'er the mountains and pause not nor
reel, With Errigal's crest tossed skyward, like a wave below
her keel ?
In this Isle of sorrow, she is known since days of old, No storm wind can stay her, no mountain wall withhold. Her name is Calamity, she can come by land or sea, And she is here, oh, Eri, dear, for anchorage in thee! |
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