Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE FAIR HILLS OF EIRE; O!, by ANONYMOUS


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE FAIR HILLS OF EIRE; O!, by                    
First Line: Take a blessing from my heart to the land of my birth
Last Line: "and the sunlight that shone long ago on the shields / of the gaels, on the fair hills of eire, o!"
Subject(s): Ireland; Irish


TAKE a blessing from my heart to the land of my birth,
And the fair Hills of Eire, O!
And to all that yet survive of Eibhear's tribe on earth,
On the fair Hills of Eire, O!
In that land so delightful the wild thrush's lay
Seems to pour a lament forth for Eire's decay --
Alas! alas! why pine I a thousand miles away
From the fair Hills of Eire, O!

The soil is rich and soft -- the air is mild and bland,
Of the fair Hills of Eire, O!
Her barest rock is greener to me than this rude land --
O, the fair Hills of Eire, O!
Her woods are tall and straight, grove rising over grove;
Trees flourish in her glens below, and on her heights above;
Oh, in heart and in soul, I shall ever, ever love
The fair Hills of Eire, O!

A noble tribe, moreover, are the now hapless Gael,
On the fair Hills of Eire, O!
A tribe in battle's hour unused to shrink or fail
On the fair Hills of Eire, O!
For this is my lament in bitterness outpoured,
To see them slain or scattered by the Saxon sword:
Oh, woe of woes, to see a foreign spoiler horde
On the fair Hills of Eire, O!

Broad and tall rise the Cruachs in the golden morning's glow,
On the fair Hills of Eire, O!
O'er her smooth grass for ever sweet cream and honey flow
On the fair Hills of Eire, O!
Oh, I long, I am pining again to behold
The land that belongs to the brave Gael of old;
Far dearer to my heart than a gift of gems or gold
Are the fair Hills of Eire, O!

The dew-drops lie bright 'mid the grass and yellow corn
On the fair Hills of Eire, O!
The sweet-scented apples blush redly in the morn
On the fair Hills of Eire, O!
The water-cress and sorrel fill the vales below;
The streamlets are hush'd, till the evening breezes blow,
While the waves of the Suir, noble river! ever flow
Near the fair Hills of Eire, O!

A fruitful clime is Eire's, through valley, meadow, plain,
And the fair land of Eire, O!
The very 'Bread of Life' is in the yellow grain
On the fair Hills of Eire, O!
Far dearer unto me than the tones music yields,
Is the lowing of the kine and the calves in her fields,
And the sunlight that shone long ago on the shields
Of the Gaels, on the fair Hills of Eire, O!





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