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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
IRELAND'S DEAD, by LIONEL PIGOT JOHNSON Poem Explanation Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: Immemorial holy land | |||
Immemorial Holy Land! At thine hand, thy sons await Any fate: they understand Immemorial Holy Land; At thine hand, thy sons await Thee, the all compassionate. Be it death for thee, they grieve Any fate: they understand Nought, to leave the fight aside: Thee, the all compassionate. Thou their pride, they undeceive Death, by death unterrified. Mother, dear and fair to us, Be it death for thee, they grieve Nought, to leave the light aside: Ever thus to be adored! Is thy sword grown timorous, Thou their pride, they undeceive Death, by death unterrified. Mother of misericord? For thy dead is grief on thee? Can it be, thou dost repent, Mother, dear and fair to us, That they went, thy chivalry, Those sad ways magnificent? Ever thus to be adored! What, and if their heart's blood flow? Is thy sword grown timorous, Mother of misericord? Gladly so, with love divine, Since not thine the overthrow, They thy fields incarnadine. Hearts afire with one sweet flame, For thy dead is grief on thee? One loved name, thine host adores: Can it be, thou dost repent, Conquerors, they overcame That they went, thy chivalry, Those sad ways magnificent. Death, high Heaven's inheritors. For their loyal love, nought less, Than the stress of death, sufficed: Now with Christ, in blessedness, What, and if their heart's blood flow? Triumph they, imparadised. Gladly so, with love divine, Mother, with so dear blood stained! Since not thine the overthrow, They thy fields incarnadine. Freedom gained through love befall Thee, by thraldom unprofaned, Perfect and imperial! Still the ancient voices ring: Hearts afire with one sweet flame, Faith they bring, and fear repel. One loved name, thine host adores: Time shall tell thy triumphing, Conquerors, they overcame Death, high Heaven's inheritors. Victress and invincible! For their loyal love, nought less, Than the stress of death, sufficed: Now with Christ, in blessedness, Triumph they, imparadised. Mother, with so dear blood stained! Freedom gained through love befall Thee, by thraldom unprofaned, Perfect and imperial! Still the ancient voices ring: Faith they bring, and fear repel. Time shall tell thy triumphing, Victress and invincible | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CHURCH OF A DREAM; TO BERNHARD BERENSON by LIONEL PIGOT JOHNSON THE DARK ANGEL by LIONEL PIGOT JOHNSON A FRIEND by LIONEL PIGOT JOHNSON CELTIC SPEECH by LIONEL PIGOT JOHNSON ENTHUSIASTS by LIONEL PIGOT JOHNSON FRIENDS: 4 by LIONEL PIGOT JOHNSON HILL AND VALE by LIONEL PIGOT JOHNSON LOVE'S WAYS by LIONEL PIGOT JOHNSON MYSTIC AND CAVALIER by LIONEL PIGOT JOHNSON |
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