Denis Florence MacCarthy

“ Hast thou kept, as thou shouldst keep, Thy affections warm for it, Letting no cold feeling creep, Like the ice breath o'er the deep, Freezing to a stony sleep Hopes the heart would form for it-- Glories that like rainbows weep Through the darkening storm for it? What we seek is Nature's right-- Freedom and the aids of it;-- Freedom for the mind's strong flight Seeking glorious shapes star-bright Through the world's intensest night, When the sunshine fades of it! Truth is one, and so is light, Yet how many shades of it! A mirror every heart doth wear, For heavenly shapes to shine in it ”

“ In body-cutting combat, on the field Of spears, when all is lost or all is won, None braver ever yet held up a shield, Than thou, Ferdiah, Dáman's ruddy son. Never since Aifé's only son I slew, Not knowing who the gallant youth might be,-- Ah! hapless deed, that still my heart doth rue!-- None have I found, Ferdiah, like to thee. Thy dream it was to win fair Finavair, From Mave her beauteous daughter's hand to gain; As soon might'st thou in the wide fields of air The glancing sunbeam's swift-winged flight restrain. ”

“ O'er the trappings of thy steeds Crimson-red thy blood shall flow. Woe is in thy journey, woe; Let the cunning leech prepare; Shouldst thou ever reach thy home, Thou shalt need his care. CUCHULLIN. I, who here with warriors fought, With the lordly chiefs of hosts, With a hundred men at once, Little heed thy empty boasts. Thee beneath the wave to place, Thee to strike and thee to slay In the first path of our fight Am I here to-day. FERDIAH. Thy reproach in me behold, For 'tis I that deed will do, 'Tis of me that Fame shall tell He the Ultonian's champion slew. ”

“ THE SEASONS OF THE HEART. The different hues that deck the earth All in our bosoms have their birth; 'Tis not in the blue or sunny skies, 'Tis in the heart the summer lies! The earth is bright if that be glad, Dark is the earth if that be sad: And thus I feel each weary day-- 'Tis winter all when thou'rt away! In vain, upon her emerald car, Comes Spring, "the maiden from afar," And scatters o'er the woods and fields The liberal gifts that nature yields; In vain the buds begin to grow, In vain the crocus gilds the snow; I feel no joy though earth be gay-- 'Tis winter all when thou'rt away! ”

“ Ah, me! to think that power malign Thus turns thy sweet green sap to gore, And what calm rapture might be thine, Sweet shamrock of the Irish shore! Struggling, and yet for strife unmeet, True type of trustful love thou art; Thou liest the whole year at my feet, To live but one day at my heart. One day of festal pride to lie Upon the loved one's heart--what more? Upon the loved one's heart to die, O shamrock of the Irish shore! And shall I not return thy love? And shalt thou not, as thou shouldst, be Placed on thy son's proud heart above The red rose or the fleur-de-lis? ”

“ Ah, the dread issue of each former fight Why hast thou not remembered ere this hour? Art thou not bright with diverse dainty arms, A purple girdle and a coat of mail? And yet to win the maid of peerless charms For whom thou dar'st the battle thou shalt fail. Yes, Finavair, the daughter of the queen, The faultless form, the gold without alloy, The glorious virgin of majestic mien, Shalt not be thine, Ferdiah, to enjoy. No, the great prize shall not by thee be won,-- A fatal lure, a false, false light is she, To numbers promised and yet given to none, And wounding many as she now wounds thee. ”

“ Of old, when God, to punish sinful pride, Sent round the deluged world the ocean flood, When all the earth lay 'neath the vengeful tide, This glorious land above the waters stood. Such shall it be at last, even as at first, Until the coming of the final doom, When the dark chambers--men's death homes shall burst, And man shall rise to judgment from the tomb. There there is never enmity, nor rage, Nor poisoned calumny, nor envy's breath, Nor shivering poverty, nor decrepit age, Nor loss of vigour, nor the narrow death ”

“ To what beautiful land should I fly? Would the gorgeous East allure, With the light of its golden eyes, Where the tall green palm, over isles of balm, Waves with its feathery leaves? Ah! no! no! no! I heed not its tempting glare; In vain should I roam from my island home, For skies more fair! Should I seek a southern sea, Italia's shore beside, Where the clustering grape from tree to tree Hangs in its rosy pride? My truant heart, be still, For I long have sighed to stray Through the myrtle flowers of fair Italy's bowers. By the shores of its southern bay. ”

“ Ask what thou wilt, and do not fear that what thou wouldst cannot be wrought; Ask what thou wilt, there standeth here one who will ne'er refuse thee aught; Ask what thou wilt, thy wildest wish be certain thou shalt have this night, For well I know that thou wilt kill this man who meets thee in the fight. FERDIAH. I will have six securities, no less will I accept from thee; Be some our country's deities, the lords of earth, and sky, and sea; Be some thy dearest ones, O queen! the darlings of thy heart and eye, Before my fatal fall is seen to-morrow, when the hosts draw nigh. ”

“ THE PRICE OF FREEDOM. Man of Ireland, heir of sorrow, Wronged, insulted, scorned, oppressed, Wilt thou never see that morrow When thy weary heart may rest? Lift thine eyes, thou outraged creature; Nay, look up, for man thou art, Man in form, and frame, and feature, Why not act man's god-like part? Think, reflect, inquire, examine, Is it for this God gave you birth-- With the spectre look of famine, Thus to creep along the earth? Does this world contain no treasures Fit for thee, as man, to wear?-- Does this life abound in pleasures, And thou askest not to share? ”

“ Her very presence in a room Doth fill the languid air with joy. Her breath is like a fragrant tune, She is the soul of every spot; Gives nature to the rich saloon, And splendour to the peasant's cot. Her mission is to calm and soothe, And purely glad life's every stage; Her garlands grace the brow of youth, And hide the hollow lines of age. But to the poet she belongs, By immemorial ties of love;-- Herself a folded book of songs, Dropp'd from the angel's hands above. Then come and make his heart thy home, For thee it opes, for thee it glows;-- Type of ideal beauty, come! ”

“ Who looks for pardon as the damned may look-- That ever pray, and know they pray in vain. 'Tis he, the wretched youth--the Demon's prey; One sudden bound, and he is at her side-- One piercing shriek, and she has swooned away, Dim are her eyes, and cold her heart's warm tide. Horror and terror seize the startled crowd; The sinewy hands are nerveless with affright; When, as the wind beareth a summer cloud, The youth bears off the maiden from their sight. ”

“ Francesca! sweet, innocent maiden! 'tis not that thy young cheek is fair, Or thy sun-lighted eyes glance like stars through the curls of thy wind-woven hair; 'Tis not for thy rich lips of coral, or even thy white breast of snow, That my song shall recall thee, Francesca! but more for the good heart below. Goodness is beauty's best portion, a dower that no time can reduce, A wand of enchantment and happiness, brightening and strengthening with use. One the long-sigh'd-for nectar that earthliness bitterly tinctures and taints: One the fading mirage of the fancy, and one the elysium it paints. ”

“ If haply thou art one of genius vast, Of generous heart, of mind sublime and grand, Who all the spring-time of thy life has pass'd Battling with tyrants for thy native land, If thou hast spent thy summer as thy prime, The serpent brood of bigotry to quell, Repent, repent thee of thy hideous crime, "Cease to do evil--learn to do well!" If thy great heart beat warmly in the cause Of outraged man, whate'er his race might be, If thou hast preached the Christian's equal laws, And stayed the lash beyond the Indian sea! ”

“ For thou, Ferdiah, art indeed a truly brave and valorous man, The first of all the chiefs I lead, the foremost hero in the van; My chosen champion now thou art, my dearest friend henceforth thou'lt be, The very closest to my heart, from every toll and tribute free. FERDIAH. Without securities, I say, united with thy royal word, I will not go, when breaks the day, to seek the combat at the Ford. That contest, while time runs its course, and fame records what ne'er should die, Shall live for ever in full force, until the judgment day draws nigh. ”

“ One star was shining o'er him--in his heart of hearts two more-- And two other eyes, far brighter than a human head e'er wore, Unseen were shining o'er. These eyes are not of woman, no brightness merely human Could, planet-like, illumine the place in which they shone; But Nature's bright works vary--there are beings light and airy, Whom mortal lips call fairy, and Una she is one-- Sweet sisters of the moonbeams and daughters of the sun, Who along the curling cool waves run. As summer lightning dances amid the heavens' expanses, Thus shone the burning glances of those flashing fairy eyes ”