6 XIV. 'They would have cross'd themselves, all mute; They would have pray'd to burst the spell; But at the stamping of my foot, Each hand down pow'rless fell! 'And go to Athunree! (I cried,) High lift the banner of your pride! But know that where its sheet unrolls, 'The weight of blood is on your souls! 'Go where the havoc of your kerne 'Shall float as high as mountain fern! 'Men shall no more your mansion know; The nettles on your hearth shall grow! 'Dead, as the green oblivious flood That mantles by your walls, shall be 'The glory of O'Connor's blood! 'Away! away to Athunree! kAthunree. the battle fought in 1314, which decided the fate of Ireland. 'Where, downward when the sun shall fall, 'Soon as it pass'd these lips of foam, 'Peal'd in the blood-red heav'n. Dire was the look that o'er their backs 'The angry parting brothers threw : 'But now, behold! like cataracts, • Come down the hills in view 'O'Connor's plumed partizans ; Thric ten Kilnagorvian clans 'Were marching to their doom: 'A sudden storm their plumage toss'd, 'A flash of lightning o'er them cross d, 'I found the helmet of my chief, • His bow still hanging on our wall, ' And took it down, and vow'd to rove 'And cherish, for my warrior's sake "The flower of love lies bleeding.' NOTES. VERSE 1. 1. 1. Innisfail, the ancient name of Ireland. VERSE 2. 1. 9. Kerne, the plural of Kern, an Irish foot-soldier. In this sense the word is used by Shakspeare. Gainsford, in his Glorys of England, says, "They (the Irish) are desperate in revenge, and their kerne think no man dead until his head be off." VERSE 3. 1. 12. Shieling, a rude cabin or hut. VERSE 4. 1. 2. In Erin's yellow vesture clad. Yellow, dyed from saffron, was the favourite co lour of the ancient Irish. When the Irish chieftains came to make terms with Queen Elizabeth's lord lieutenant, we are told by Sir John Davis, that they came to court in saffron-coloured uniforms. VERSE 4. 1. 16. Mórat, a drink made of the juice of mulberry mixed with honey. VERSE 6. 1. 13. and 14. Their tribe, they said, their high degree, Was sung in Tara's psaltery. The pride of the Irish in ancestry was so great, that one of the O'Neals being told that Barrett of Castlemone had been there only 400 years, he replied, that he hated the clown as if he had come there but yesterday. Tara was the place of assemblage and feasting of the petty princes of Ireland. Very splendid and fabulous descriptions are given by the Irish historians of the pomp and luxury of those meetings. The psaltery of Tara was the grand national register of Ireland. The grand epoch of political eminence in the early history of the Irish is the reign of their great and favourite monarch Ollam |