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THE LAMENT OF O'GNIVE, by                    
First Line: How dimm'd is the glory that circled the gael
Last Line: "degraded and lost ones, no hector is nigh, / to lead you to freedom, or teach you to die!"
Subject(s): "o'gnive, Fearflatha;


HOW dimm'd is the glory that circled the Gael,
And fall'n the high people of green Innisfail!
The sword of the Saxon is red with their gore,
And the mighty of nations is mighty no more.

Like a bark on the ocean long shatter'd and tost,
On the land of your fathers at length you are lost,
The hand of the spoiler is stretch'd on your plains,
And you're doomed from your cradles to bondage and chains.

Oh where is the beauty that beam'd on thy brow?
Strong hand in the battle, how weak art thou now!
That heart is now broken that never would quail,
And thy high songs are turn'd into weeping and wail.

Bright shades of our sires! from your home in the skies
Oh blast not your sons with the scorn of your eyes!
Proud spirit of Gollamh, how red is thy cheek!
For thy freemen are slaves, and thy mighty are weak!

O'Neill of the Hostages, Con, whose high name
On a hundred red battles has floated to fame,
Let the long grass still sigh undisturbed o'er thy sleep,
Arise not to shame us, awake not to weep!

In thy broad wing of darkness infold us, oh night?
Withhold, oh bright sun, the reproach of thy light!
For freedom or valour no more canst thou see,
In the home of the Brave, in the isle of the Free.

Affliction's dark waters your spirits have bow'd,
And oppression hath wrapped all your land in its shroud,
Since first from the Brehons' pure justice you stray'd,
And bent to those laws the proud Saxon has made.

We know not our country, so strange is her face,
Her sons once her glory are now her disgrace;
Gone, gone is the beauty of fair Innisfail,
For the stranger now rules in the land of the Gael.

Where, where are the woods that oft rung to your cheer,
Where you waked the wild chase of the wolf and the deer?
Can those dark heights, with ramparts all frowning and riven,
Be the hills where your forests waved brightly in Heaven?

Oh bondsmen of Egypt, no Moses appears
To light your dark steps thro' this desert of tears;
Degraded and lost ones, no Hector is nigh,
To lead you to freedom, or teach you to die!





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