| Share page | Visit Us On FB |
|
4.66 THE GOLDEN TREASURY OF |
||
|
n
Were mine the town on blue Loch Rea, Portumna's
pleasant streets, The city of the Battle-ford, and Limerick of the
fleets, Unto thy tribe these precious gifts I gladly would
resign, Could gifts like these incline them, love, to make thee
ever mine !
in
My blessing take to Connaugh back, the land of
friendship free, And to my own beloved who is so far from me; On Thomond's dusky mountain, our meeting-place we
chose — Swoln Shannon's waves detain'd me—in savage wrath
they rose !
IV
I would sooner than my gallant steed—I pass his
bridle-rein, Or heirdom of the wide domain wjiere stately deer are
slain ; Than all that reach'd to Limerick of laden fleets this
year, That in the town on blue Loch Rea I could behold my
dear !
v
O ! that I were laid in death far on a hill away,
My right hand high extended to feed the bird of prey, |
||
|
|
||