Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, CHILDREN OF LIR, by ROSA MULHOLLAND


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

CHILDREN OF LIR, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Mournfully, o mournfully
Alternate Author Name(s): Gilbert, Lady




MOURNFULLY, O mournfully,
The waves of Moyle run to the sea;
White their lips that ever mutter
Of a tale they long to utter.
Softly sleep, my Fionnula!
Never more thy sad wings trailing,
Through the rack of tempests wailing,
Helpless in thine anguish human,
Weary swan and hapless woman!
Fionnula, O Ulula!


Mighty Lir, why hast thou taken
To thy widowed breast forsaken
(Softly sleep, my Fionnula!)
One to hate thy children tender,
So that Lucifer may lend her
Power to steal from thine embraces
Curling heads and blooming faces ?
Fionnula, O Ulula!


Mournfully, O mournfully,
The waves of Moyle run to the sea.
Laughing girl, awake so early,
Rise and deck thy beauty rarely."
(Softly sleep, my Fionnula!)
Hear my voice that is thy mother's;
Rise, and call thy gentle brothers;
We will journey all together
Through the pleasant summer weather "
Fionnula, O Ulula!


To thy grandsire, lone and aged,
In his distant palace caged,"
(Softly sleep, my Fionnula!)
We will travel through the sunshine,
You shall kiss him in the moonshine,
He will stroke your flowing tresses,
Smiling at your young caresses,"
Fionnula, O Ulula!


Sullenly and mournfully
The waves of Moyle run to the sea.
Mother, what is this dark water ?
Let us tarry by it, daughter!
(Softly sleep, my Fionnula!)
In its wilds of lake and river,
Tarry thou a swan for ever,
All your happy words are spoken,
All your girlhood's promise broken,"
Fionnula, O Ulula!


Take thy brothers with thee yonder;
So for ever may ye wander "
(Softly sleep, my Fionnula |)
Till the sound of sweet bells ringing,
Reach your ears, a message bringing;
Long your hearts shall burn to hear it,
Long 'twill be ere I shall fear it 1 "
Fionnula, O Ulula!


Mournfully, O mournfully,
The waves of Moyle run to the sea.
Eire's princess, Lir's sweet daughter,
Breasts the dark and lonely water;
(Softly sleep, my Fionnula!)
Three wild swans drift out together,
Through the blue and sunny weather,
Drooping wings and heads that languish,
Sickening with their human anguish
Fionnula, O Ulula!


Oh, my brothers, keep beside me,
Lest the rolling wave divide me,"
(Softly sleep, my Fionnula!)
From your tender woe and weakness,
Little brothers, and your meekness,
Let my braver eyes behold you,
And my stronger wings enfold you! "
Fionnula, O Ulula!


Mournfully, O mournfully,
The waves of Moyle run to the sea.
Here are lilies golden-headed,
Unto white companions wedded; "
(Softly sleep, my Fionnula!)
Let us rest amid their sweetness- -
No, the curse in its completeness
Keeps us ever shifting, shifting,
Three wild swans for ever drifting! "
Fionnula, O Ulula!


Sluggish years, how slow your motion,
Rolling in the rolling ocean,
(Softly sleep, my Fionnula!)
To the dirge of Moyle's dark water,
Breaking over Lir's sad daughter,
Rising, falling, ebbing, flowing,
Slowly coming, slowly going
Fionnula, O Ulula!


O stormily and mournfully
The waves of Moyle foam to the sea j
Winter blasts come forth to meet them,
Bitterly the whirlwinds greet them,
(Softly sleep, my Fionnula! )
Side by side for ever clinging
'Gainst the tempest, panting, winging,
Seeking by the lake's white edges
Shelter 'mid the whistling sedges
Fionnula, O Ulula!


Seasons corning, seasons going,
Times have changed beyond our knowing,
(Softly sleep, my Fionnula!)
Lir hath mourned himself to madness,
Death hath ta'en away his sadness,
Now another hath his glory,
And forgotten is thy story,
Fionnula, O Ulula!


Mournfully, O mournfully,
The waves of Moyle sob in the sea.
Fishers on the green bank yonder,
Stay their hands and gaze in wonder
(Softly sleep, ray Fionnula!)
Where amid the breakers striving,
Beaten by the rain-winds driving,
Greyly gleam the three together,
Phantom creatures, hurrying whither ?
Fionnula, O Ulula!


Like our dreams, confused and broken,
Pass the years till God hath spoken.
(Softly sleep, my Fionnula!)
From our mountains and our meadows
Move at last the morning shadows,
Comes the banisher of sadness,
Comes the messenger of gladness,
Fionnula, O Ulula!


Dreamfully and mournfully
The waves of Moyle rock in the sea.
Hark, the sound of seraphs singing
Like the chime of sweet bells ringing!
(Softly sleep, my Fionnula!)
Comes a ship across the ocean,
Winging with an angel's motion,
Bearing one whose words of wonder
Rend the clouds of woe asunder,
Fionnula, O Ulula!


Hark, the sound of children singing!
Hark, the chime of sweet bells ringing!
(Softly sleep, my Fionnula!)
See the fair procession filing
Through the woods and pastures smiling,
White-robed creatures, loved, forgiven,
Newly washed in dews from heaven.
Fionnula, O Ulula!


Peacefully, O peacefully,
The waves of Moyle sleep in the sea.
Banners flying, censers swinging,
Peace on earth brave men are singing,
(Softly sleep, my Fionnula!)
Holy Patrick, pardon bearing,
Far in front the cross up-rearing,
To the winds their Master nameth,
To the hills their Lord proclaimeth,
Fionnula, O Ulula!


Ring the bells, O ring them clearly,
Ring them late and ring them early,
(Softly sleep, my Fionnula!)
Through the sun and through the shadow,
O'er the moorland and the meadow,
Lakes, and streams, and rocky places,
And the sandy sea-girt spaces!
Fionnula, O Ulula!


Mournfully, O mournfully,
The waves of Moyle run to the sea.
Let the sound go roaming, roaming,
Hark, the Lord of love is coming!
(Softly sleep, my Fionnula!)
Fling it far across the water
To the ear of Lir's sad daughter;
Ring it louder, ring it clearer,
All ye stricken ones, draw nearer!
Fionnula, O Ulula!






Now upon the wave-girt heather
Saint and flock have knelt together,
(Softly sleep, my Fionnula!)
O'er the voice of their appealing,
What is this strange music stealing ?
'Tis the swan! a fisher crieth,
Swan that singeth while she dieth
Fionnula, O Ulula!


Mournfully, O mournfully,
The waves of Moyle run to the sea.
Lo! the phantom three appearing,
Far away, yet nearing, nearing,
(Softly sleep, my Fionnula!)
Three grey forms with pinions dragging,
Winging feebly, panting, flagging,
Beaten by the outward breaker,
Battling, ever weaker, weaker
Fionnula, O Ulala!


To the shore the waters sweep them;
Well may tender spirits weep them,
(Softly sleep, my Fionnula!)
Surely these are human creatures,
Broken forms and wasted features;
On the beach behold them lying,
Faintly breathing, slowly dying,
Fionnula, O Ulula!


Mournfully, O mournfully,
The waves of Moyle run to the sea;
Bathe them in the hallowing water
Lir's brave sons and Lir's sweet daughter.
(Softly sleep, my Fionnula!)
Dig the grave, and kindly lay them
Where no waves nor winds affray them,
Never more their sad wings trailing
Through the rack of tempests wailing,
Fionnula, O Ulula!


Plant the cross of Christ above them,
Bid the little children love them,
(Softly sleep, my Fionnula!)
While at eve they cease their playing,
Dimpled cheeks together laying,
Listening to the wind-bells ringing,
Hark! " they say, " the swans are singing! "
Fionnula, O Ulula!






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