Part 3 (1/2)
Banagher Rhue, now a queen has won!
(The black c.o.c.k crows with the flash of dawn.) And she is the woman who prays for you: ”_Is go d-tigheadh do_, _mhuirnin slan_!”
THE FAIR LITTLE MAIDEN
”There is one at the door, Wolfe O'Driscoll, At the door, who is bidding you come!”
”Who is he that wakes me in the darkness, Calling when all the world's dumb?”
”Six horses has he to his carriage, Six horses blacker than the night, And their twelve red eyes in the shadows Twelve lamps he carries for his light;
”And his coach is a coffin black and mouldy, A huge black coffin open wide: He asks for your soul, Wolfe O'Driscoll, Who is calling at the door outside.”
”Who let him thro' the gates of my gardens, Where stronger bolts have never been?”
”'Twas the father of the fair little maiden You drove to her grave so green.”
”And who let him pa.s.s through the courtyard, By loosening the bar and the chain?”
”Oh, who but the brother of the maiden, Who lies in the cold and the rain!”
”Then who drew the bolts at the portal, And into my house bade him go?”
”She, the mother of the poor young maiden, Who lies in her youth so low.”
”Who stands, that he dare not enter, The door of my chamber, between?”
”O, the ghost of the fair little maiden, Who lies in the churchyard green.”
AT CHRISTMAS TIME
For that old love I once adored I decked my halls and spread my board At Christmas time.
With all the winter's flowers that grow I wreathed my room, and mistletoe Hung in the gloom of my doorway, Wherein my dear lost love might stray When joy-bells chime.
What phantom was it entered there And drank his wine and took his chair At Christmas time?
With holly boughs and mistletoe He crowned his head, and at my woe And tears I shed laughed long and loud; ”Get back, O phantom! to thy shroud When joy-bells chime.”
A WEEPING CUPID
Why love! I thought you were gay and fair, Merry of mien and debonair.
What then means this brow so black, Whose sullen gloom twin eyes give back, Poor little G.o.d in tears, alack!
Why love! I thought in your smiling cheek Dainty dimples played hide and seek; Pa.s.sing by like a winter's night, With stormy sighs from lips all white.
Poor little G.o.d, how comes your plight?
A maiden said you were tall and bold, With an arm of steel and a heart of gold; Whose changing face would make her day; When came a frown, the suns.h.i.+ne play Of smiles would chase the clouds away.
A youth once said you were like a maid With sunny hair in a golden braid; Whose cheeks were each a rose uncurled; And brow a lilybell unfurled; The fairest maid in all the world.