Arthur, brother, Gondal's shore
Rested from the battle's roar;
Arthur, brother, we returned
Back to Desmond lost and mourned.
Thou didst purchase by thy fall
Home for us and peace for all;
Yet, how darkly dawned that day!
Dreadful was the price to pay!
Just as once, through sun and mist
I have climbed the mountain's breast,
Still my gun with certain aim
Brought to earth the fluttering game:
But the very dogs repined;
Though I called with whistle shrill,
Tay and Carlo lagged behind,
Looking backward o'er the hill.
Sorrow was not vocal then;
Mute their woe and my despair;
But the joy of life was flown—
He was gone, and we were lone.
So it is by morn and eve;
So it is in field and hall;
For the absent one we grieve;
One being absent, saddens all.
April 19, 1839.
