IRISH MELODIES.
35
Dark falls the tear of him who mourneth
Lost joy, or hope that ne'er returneth,
But brightly flows the tear,
Wept o'er a hero's bier!
III.
Oh! quench'd are our beacon lights
Thou, of the hundred fights*[1]!
Thou, on whose burning tongue†[2]
Truth, peace and freedom hung!
Both mute—but long as valour shineth,
Or mercy's soul at war repineth,
So long shall Erin's pride
Tell how they liv'd and died.
- ↑ This designation, which has been applied to LORD NELSON before, is the title given to a celebrated Irish Hero, in a Poem by O'Gnive, the bard of O'Niel, which is quoted in the "Philosophical Survey of the South of Ireland." Page 433. "Con, of the hundred fights, sleep in thy grass-grown tomb, and upbraid not our defeats with thy victories!"
- ↑ Fox, "ultimus Romanorum."
