To the shore the waters sweep them;
Well may tender spirits weep them,
(Softly sleep, my Fionnula !)
Surely these are human creatures,
Broken forms and wasted features;
On the beach behold them lying,
Faintly breathing, slowly dying,
Fionnula, O Ulula!
Mournfully, O mournfully,
The waves of Moyle run to the sea;
Bathe them in the hallowing water—
Lir's brave sons and Lir's sweet daughter.
(Softly sleep, my Fionnula!)
Dig the grave, and kindly lay them
Where no waves nor winds affray them,
Never more their sad wings trailing
Through the rack of tempests wailing,
Fionnula, O Ulula!
Plant the cross of Christ above them,
Bid the little children love them,
(Softly sleep, my Fionnula!)
While at eve they cease their playing,
Dimpled cheeks together laying,
Listening to the wind-bells ringing,
Hark!" they say, "the swans are singing!
WILD and eerie was the night,
And the snow fell thick and white,
And across the moaning sea
Sped the spirits wearily;
And the north wind from the moor
Railed and rattled at the door;
And against the window-pane
Smote the bitter hail and rain.
Wild and eerie was the night,
But the fire within burned bright,
And my mother span apace,
With the red light on her face;
And my father, as he sat,
Slowly stroked the purring cat,
While she lay upon my knee;-
For no fear or care had we.
Wild and eerie was the night,
Yet no cause had we for fright,
And the moaning of the sea
Seemed a cradle-song to me;
And the loose wind-rattled pane,
Smitten sharply by the rain,
But a playmate singing low,
Not the harbinger of woe.
Wild and eerie was the night,
Yet in Mary's blessed sight
Darkest night is clear as day;
And the sweet saints ever pray
To the dear Lord on His throne,
When the nights are dark and lone,—
So our priest says constantly,
And his words seemed true to me.
Wild and eerie was the night,
Yet the faint and chequered light
Of the log-fire, cast athwart
Wheel and worker, subtly wrought
From the old forms that I knew,
Visions strange, and weird, and new,
Till I slept the young child's sleep,
Dreamless, visionless, and deep.
Sudden woke I, with a start,
And a cold fear at my heart.
Through the clamour at the pane
Came a sound that was not rain,
Wind, or hail, or storm, or sea,
But a deadlier enemy!
With a crash, the fast-barred door
At my feet fell, on the floor!
Three men, through the open space
Rushed into our dwelling-place;
Seized my father by the hair,
While my mother, in despair,
Strove to shield him with her breast.
God! how can I tell the rest?
Swift they dragged him from our sight,
Out into the fearful night!
Never, while I live, shall I
Lose the utter misery
Of my mother's maddened eyes!
Always to my ears will rise
Her despairing shriek, as they
Tore him from her arms away—
Bleeding, wounded, scarce alive,
How should he with three men strive?
Out into that awful night
Rushed they, from her tortured sight.
For an instant, with shrill groan,
Sank she fainting, cold as stone;
But full soon her face flushed red :
Hear that sound, my child!" she said; "Tis your father's dying cry,
As they murder him hard-by!
"When he's dead (heed carefully
What I say; ah, woe is me!
Father's blood and mother's tears
Yield you strength beyond your years!)
Then will come my turn to die.
(Darling listen heedfully)
In yon cupboard must you hide;
By the small crack in its side
"Set your face, where you can see All the bitter tragedy.
I will struggle as I may.
See, the fire is bright as day; "—
Here she flung logs fresh and dry,
And the fire blazed clear and high-
"In this light your eyes can scan
Face and form of every man."
Then she set me in my place,
With a smile on her wan face;
And she kissed me, held me near
Her poor heart, till I could hear
Its swift beats; and then she said,
"Help will come when I am dead;
And, my child, your voice must be
Raised to tell the truth for me.
"At each face, look well, my own;
Never think you are alone;
See, I lay upon your knee
Pussy for sweet company.
Very soon the sun will rise,"
(Oh, the anguish of her eyes!)
"Then, my darling, you will tell
What you saw.
Watch well! watch well!
As she kissed me, last of all,
Said she, "Let no whisper fall
From your lips, but silently
Heed whate'er you hear or see."
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