There was lifted up one voice of woe , One lament of more than mortal grief, Through the wide South to and fro, For a fallen Chief. In the dead of night that cry thrilled through me, I looked out upon the midnight air! Mine own soul was all as gloomy, And I knelt in prayer. O'er Loch Gur, that night, once-twice-yea, thrice- Passed a wail of anguish for the Brave That half curdled into ice Its moon-mirroring wave. Then uprose a many-toned wild hymn in Choral swell from Ogra's dark ravine, And Mogeely's Phantom Women Mourned the Geraldine! Far on Carah Mona's emerald plains Shrieks and sighs were blended many hours, And Fermoy in fitful strains Answered from her towers. Youghal, Keenalmeaky, Eemokilly Mourned in concert, and their piercing keen Woke to wondering life the stilly Glens of Inchiqueen. From Loughmoe to yellow Dunanore There was fear; the traders of Tralee Gathered up their golden store, And prepared to flee; For, in ship and hall from night till morning Showed the first faint beamings of the sun, All the foreigners heard the warning Of the Dreaded One! "This," they spake, "portendeth death to us, If we fly not swiftly from our fate!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HEMLOCK AND CEDAR by CARL SANDBURG THE COMPLAINT OF CHAUCER TO HIS EMPTY PURSE by GEOFFREY CHAUCER TO ONE IN BEDLAM by ERNEST CHRISTOPHER DOWSON AFTER A JOURNEY by THOMAS HARDY WHAT THE BULLET SANG by FRANCIS BRET HARTE HORATIUS [AT THE BRIDGE], FR. LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME by THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY THE VOYAGE OF MAELDUNE by ALFRED TENNYSON |