There was a green branch hung with many a bell When her own people ruled in wave-worn Eire; And from its murmuring greenness, calm of faery, A Druid kindness, on all hearers fell. It charmed away the merchant from his guile, And turned the farmer's memory from his cattle, And hushed in sleep the roaring ranks of battle, For all who heard it dreamed a little while. Ah, Exiles wandering over many seas, Spinning at all times Eire's good to-morrow! Ah, worldwide Nation, always growing Sorrow! I also bear a bell branch full of ease. I tore it from green boughs winds tossed and hurled, Green boughs of tossing always, weary, weary! I tore it from the green boughs of old Eire, That country where a man can so be crossed; Can be so battered, badgered, destroyed That he's a loveless man: gay bells bright laughter That shakes a mouldering cobweb from the rafter; And yet the saddest chimes are best enjoyed. Gay bells or sad, they bring you memories Of half-forgotten innocent old places: We and our bitterness have left no traces On Munster grass and Connemara skies. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE VOICE OF THE ANCIENT BARD, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE ONLY ONE MOTHER by GEORGE COOPER THE SONG OF HIAWATHA: HIAWATHA'S DEPARTURE by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW CONSIDER by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI TO TOUSSAINT L'OUVERTURE by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH LITTLE BERNHARD by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS COUNCIL by ELIZABETH BROWN (AMERICAN) THE WANDERER: 1. IN ITALY: INDIAN LOVE SONG by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |