JEREMIAH JOSEPH CALLANAN 646 The Outlaw of Loch Lene
FROM THE IRISH
OMANY a day have I made good ale in the glen, That came not of stream or malt, like the brewing of
men:
My bed was the ground; my roof, the green-wood above, And the wealth that I sought, one far kind glance from my
Love.
Alas! on that night when the horses I drove from the field, That I was not near from terror my angel to shield' She stretch'd forth her arms; her mantle she flung to the wind, And swam o'er Loch Lene, her outlawed lover to find.
would that a freezing sleet-wing'd tempest did sweep, And I and my love were alone, far off on the deep, Pd ask not a ship, or a bark, or a pinnace, to save
With her hand round my waist, I'd fear not the wind or the
wave.
'Tis down by the lake where the wild tree fringes its sides, The maid of my heart, my fair one of Heaven resides.
1 think, as at eve she wanders its mazes among,
The birds go to sleep by the sw^et wild twist of her song.
��. WILLIAM SIDNEY WALKER
TOO solemn for day, too sweet for night, Come not in darkness, come not in light; But come in some twilight interim,
When the gloom is soft, and the light is dim.
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