Corpus of Electronic Texts Edition
Lament for Owen Roe O'Neill (Author: James Clarence Mangan)
- O mourn, Erin, mourn!
He is lost, he is dead,
By whom thy proudest flag was borne,
Thy bravest heroes led!
The night winds are uttering
Their orison of woe,
The raven flaps his darkling wing
O'er the grave of Owen Roe,
Of him who should have been thy King,
The noble Owen Roe!
- Alas, hapless land,
It is ever thus with thee;
The eternal destinies withstand
Thy struggle to be free.
One after one thy champions fall,
Thy valiant men lie low,
And now sleeps under shroud and pall
The gallant Owen Roe,
The worthiest warrior of them all,
The princely Owen Roe!
- Where was sword, where was soul
Like to his beneath the skies?
Ah, many a century must roll
Ere such a chief shall rise!
I saw him in the battle's shock,
Tremendous was his blow,
As smites the sledge the anvil block
His blade smote the foe.
He was a tower; a human rock
Was mighty Owen Roe!
- Woe to us! Guilt and wrong
Triumph, while to our grief
We raise the keen, the funeral song
Above our fallen chief.
The proud usurper sways with power,
He rules in state and show,
While we lament our fallen tower,
Our leader, Owen Roe:
While we, like slaves, bow down and cower,
And weep for Owen Roe.
- But the high will of Heaven
Be fulfilled evermore!
What tho' it leaveth us bereaven,
And stricken to the core.
Amid our groans, amid our tears,
We still feel and know
That we shall meet in after years
The sainted Owen Roe:
In after years, in brighter spheres,
Our glorious Owen Roe!