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THE DIRGE OF DESMOND, by             Poem Explanation         Poet's Biography
First Line: Rush, dark dirge, o'er hills of erin! Woe for desmond's name and race!
Last Line: The man shall live who fought for god; the man who for his country died.
Subject(s): Ireland - Rebellions; Lament


RUSH, dark dirge, o'er hills of Erin! Woe for Desmond's name and race!
Loving conqueror whom the conquered caught so soon to her embrace:
There's a veil on Erin's forehead: cold at last is Desmond's hand: --
Halls that roofed her outlawed prelates blacken like a blackening brand.

Strongbow's sons forsook their strong one, served so long with loving awe;
Roche the Norman, Norman Barry, and the Baron of Lixnaw:
Gaelic lords -- that once were princes -- holp not -- Thomond or Clancar:
Ormond, ill-crowned Tudor's kinsman, ranged her hosts, and led her war.

One by one his brothers perished: fate down drew them to their grave:
Smerwick's cliffs beheld his Spaniards wrestling with the yeasty wave.
Swiftly sweep the eagles westward, gathering where the carcase lies:
There's a blacker crowd behind them: vultures next will rend their prize.

'Twas not War that wrought the ruin! Sister portents, yoked for hire,
Side by side dragged on the harrow -- Famine's plague, and plague of Fire:
Slain the herds, and burned the harvests, vale and plain with corpses strown,
'Mid the waste they spread their feast; within the charnel reigned -- alone.

In the death-hunt she was nigh him; she that scorned to leave his side:
By her lord she stood and spake not, neck-deep in the freezing tide:
Round them waved the osiers; o'er them drooped the willows, rank on rank:
Troopers spurred; and bayed the bloodhounds, up and down the bleeding bank.

From the East sea to the West sea rings the death-keen long and sore:
Erin's curse be his that led them, found the hovel, burst the door!
O'er the embers dead an old man silent bent with head to knee:
Slowly rose he: backward fell they: -- 'Seek ye Desmond? I am he!'

London Bridge! thy central archway props that grey head year by year:
But to God that head is holy; and to Erin it is dear:
When that bridge is dust, that river in the last fire-judgement dried,
The man shall live who fought for God; the man who for his country died.





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