34
IRISH MELODIES.
HOW OFT HAS THE BENSHEE CRIED.
I.
How oft has the Benshee cried!
How oft has death untied
Bright links that Glory wove,
Sweet bonds, entwiri'd by Love!
Peace to each manly soul that sleepeth!
Rest to each faithful eye that weepeth!
Long may the fair and brave
Sigh o'er the hero's grave.
II.
We're fallen upon gloomy days*[1],
Star after star decays,
Every bright name, that shed
Light o'er the land, is fled.
- ↑ I have endeavoured here, without losing that Irish character, which it is ray object to preserve throughout this work, to allude to the sad and ominous fatality, by which England has been deprived of so many great and good men, at a moment when she most requires all the aids of talent and integrity.
