Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, ARGAN MOR, by THOMAS OSBORNE DAVIS


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

ARGAN MOR, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: The danes rush around, around
Last Line: Went from the rath alive!
Subject(s): Argan Mor, Ireland


THE Danes rush around, around;
To the edge of the fosse they bound;
Hark! hark, to their trumpets' sound,
Bidding them to the war!
Hark! hark, to their cruel cry,
As they swear our hearts' cores to dry,
And their raven red to dye;
Glutting their demon, Thor.

Leaping the rath upon,
Here's the fiery Ceallachan, --
He makes the Lochlonnach wan,
Lifting his brazen spear!
Ivor, the Dane, is struck down,
For the spear broke right through his crown.
Yet worse did the battle frown, --
Anlaf is on our rear!

See! see! the Rath's gates are broke
And in -- in, like a cloud of smoke,
Burst on the dark Danish folk,
Charging us everywhere, --
O, never was closer fight
Than in Argan Mor that night, --
How little do men want light,
Fighting within their lair.

Then girding about our king,
On the thick of the foes we spring, --
Down -- down we trample and fling,
Gallantly though they strive;
And never our falchions stood,
Till we were all wet with their blood,
And none of the pirate brood
Went from the Rath alive!





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