Summary

Brown William, The Power of the Harp…

Thy murder, Brown William, fills Mona with woe.
And now, if a few of the seed do remain,
They’re vile as the thistles and briars of the plain;
They ply for their neighbours the pick and the hoe:
Thy murder, Brown William, fills Mona with woe.
Should ye walk through all Man you’ll find no one, I reckon,
To mourn for the name that was once in Beemachan;
But thousands of poor who rejoice that ’tis low:
Thy murder, Brown William, fills Mona with woe.
Source: Gutenberg

Brown William, The Power of the Harp…

Bear the public of Mona both loathing and hate,
Who set man against man, and the peace would break now,
As thy murder, Brown William, broke hearts long ago.
The lord of our island, Duke Athol the great,
They would gladly persuade, with their parle and their prate,
The corner-stones high of his house to lay low,
And to King, Duke and Mona are foemen, I trow.
p. 12THE POWER OF THE HARP
Sir Peter would forth from the castle ride,
Grieving and weeping did sit his young bride.
Belov’d of my heart, wherefore sorrowest thou so?
Source: Gutenberg

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