Poems by Denis Florence MacCarthy (great novels txt) 📕

and rich resources both of fancy and language." I may be permitted to transcribe here an extract from some unpublished comments by Sir William Rowan Hamilton on another poem of the same class. His remarks are interesting in themselves, as coming from one illustrious as a man of science, and, at the same time, a true poet-a combination which may hereafter become more frequent, since already in the vast regions of space and time brought within human ken, imagination strives hard to keep pace with established fact. In a manuscript volume now in the Library of Trinity College, Dublin, he writes, under date, May, 1848:-

"The University Magazine for the present month contains a poem which delights one, entitled 'The Bridal of the Year.' It is signed 'D. F. M. C.,' as is also a shorter, but almost a sweeter piece immediately following it, and headed, 'Summer Longings.'"

Sir William goes through the whole poem, copying and criticising every stanza, and concludes as follows:-

"After a very pretty ninth stanza respecting the 'fairy phantoms' in the poet's 'glorious visions seen,' which the author conceives to 'follow the poet's steps beneath the morning's beam,' he burst into rapture at the approach of the Bride herself-

"'Bright as are the planets seven-
with her glances
She advances,
For her azure eyes are Heaven!
And her robes are sunbeams woven,
And her beauteous bridesmaids are
Hopes and wishes-
Dreams delicious-
Joys from some serener star,
And Heavenly-hued Illusions gleaming from afar!'

"Her eyes 'are' heaven, her robes 'are' sunbeams, and with these physical aspects of the May, how well does the author of this ode (for such, surely, we may term the poem, so rich in lyrical enthusiasm and varied melody) conceive the combination as bridesmaids, as companions to the bride; of those mental feelings, those new buddings of hope in the heart which the season is fitted to awaken. The azure eyes glitter back to ours, for the planets shine upon us from the lovely summer night; but lovelier still are those 'dreams delicious, joys from some serener star,' which at the same sweet season float down invisibly, and win their entrance to our souls. The image of a bridal is happily and naturally kept before us in the remaining stanzas of this poem, which well deserve to be copied here, in continuation of these notes-the former for its cheerfulness, the latter for its sweetness. I wish that I knew the author, or even that I were acquainted with his name.-Since ascertained to be D. F. MacCarthy."

4. The following are the titles and dates of publication: In 1853, "The Constant Prince," "The Secret in Words," "The Physician of his own Honour," "Love after Death," "The Purgatory of St. Patrick," "The Scarf and the Flower." In 1861, "The Greatest Enchantment," "The Sorceries of Sin," "Devotion of the Cross." In 1867, "Belshazzar's Feast," "The Divine Philothea" (with Essays from the German of Lorinser, and the Spanish of Gonzales Pedroso). In 1870, "Chrysanthus and Daria, the Two Lovers of Heaven." In 1873, "The Wonder-working Magician," "Life is a Dream," "The Purgatory of St. Patrick" (a new translation entirely in the assonant metre). Introductions and notes are added to all these plays. Another, "Daybreak in Copacabana," was finished a few months before his death, and has not been published.

5. When the author of "Evangeline" visited Europe for the last time in 1869, they met in Italy. The sonnets at p. 174 [To Henry Wadsworth Longfellow] refer to this occasion.

6. The "Campo de Estio," described in the lines "Not Known."

7. A fortnight after that of Longfellow. His attached friend and early associate, Thomas D'Arcy M'Gee, perished by assassination at Ottawa on the same day and month fourteen years ago.

8. Edited by his friend Br. W. K. Sullivan, President of Queen's College, Cork, who, I may add, has in preparation a paper on the "Voyage of St. Brendan," and on other ancient Irish accounts of voyages, of which he finds an explanation in Keltic mythology. The paper will appear in the Transactions of the American Geographical Society.

9. "The Combat at the Ford" being Fragment III. of his "Legends of Ireland's Heroic Age." London, 1882.

10. In his "Beautes de la Poesie Anglaise, Rayons et Reflets," &c.

11. The first meeting was held on April 15th, at the Mansion House, Dublin, under the presidency of the Lord Mayor, the Right Hon. Charles Dawson, M. P.


CONTENTS.


Preface


BALLADS AND LYRICS.

Waiting for the May [Summer Longings] Devotion The Seasons of the Heart Kate of Kenmare A Lament The Bridal of the Year The Vale of Shanganah The Pillar Towers of Ireland Over the Sea Oh! had I the Wings of a Bird [Home Preference] Love's Language The Fireside The Banished Spirit's Song Remembrance The Clan of MacCaura The Window Autumn Fears Fatal Gifts Sweet May FERDIAH: an Episode from the Tain Bo Cuailgne THE VOYAGE OF ST. BRENDAN THE FORAY OF CON O'DONNELL THE BELL-FOUNDER ALICE AND UNA


NATIONAL POEMS AND SONGS.

Advance! Remonstrance Ireland's Vow A Dream The Price of Freedom The Voice and Pen "Cease to do Evil-Learn to do Well" The Living Land The Dead Tribune A Mystery


SONNETS.

"The History of Dublin" To Henry Wadsworth Longfellow To Kenelm Henry Digby To Ethna [Dedicatory Sonnet]


UNDERGLIMPSES.

The Arraying The Search The Tidings Welcome, May The Meeting of the Flowers The Progress of the Rose The Bath of the Streams The Flowers of the Tropics The Year-King The Awaking The Resurrection The First of the Angels Spirit Voices


CENTENARY ODES.

O'Connell (August 6th, 1875) Moore (May 28th, 1879)


MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.

The Spirit of the Snow To the Bay of Dublin To Ethna "Not Known" The Lay Missioner The Spirit of the Ideal Recollections Dolores Lost and Found Spring Flowers from Ireland To the Memory of Father Prout Those Shandon Bells Youth and Age To June Sunny Days in Winter The Birth of the Spring All Fool's Day Darrynane A Shamrock from the Irish Shore Italian Myrtles The Irish Emigrant's Mother [The Emigrants] The Rain: a Song of Peace


Poems

BALLADS AND LYRICS.


WAITING FOR THE MAY.

Ah! my heart is weary waiting,
Waiting for the May- Waiting for the pleasant rambles, Where the fragrant hawthorn brambles,
With the woodbine alternating,
Scent the dewy way.
Ah! my heart is weary waiting,
Waiting for the May.

Ah! my heart is sick with longing,
Longing for the May- Longing to escape from study, To the young face fair and ruddy,
And the thousand charms belonging
To the summer's day.
Ah! my heart is sick with longing,
Longing for the May.

Ah! my heart is sore with sighing,
Sighing for the May- Sighing for their sure returning, When the summer beams are burning,
Hopes and flowers that, dead or dying,
All the winter lay.
Ah! my heart is sore with sighing,
Sighing for the May.

Ah! my heart is pained and throbbing,
Throbbing for the May- Throbbing for the sea-side billows, Or the water-wooing willows,
Where in laughing and in sobbing
Glide the streams away.
Ah! my heart is pained and throbbing,
Throbbing for the May.

Waiting sad, dejected, weary,
Waiting for the May. Spring goes by with wasted warnings, Moon-lit evenings, sun-bright mornings;
Summer comes, yet dark and dreary
Life still ebbs away:
Man is ever weary, weary,
Waiting for the May!


DEVOTION.

When I wander by the ocean, When I view its wild commotion, Then the spirit of devotion
Cometh near; And it fills my brain and bosom,
Like a fear!

I fear its booming thunder, Its terror and its wonder, Its icy waves, that sunder
Heart from heart; And the white host that lies under
Makes me start.

Its clashing and its clangour Proclaim the Godhead's anger- I shudder, and with langour
Turn away; No joyance fills my bosom
For that day.

When I wander through the valleys, When the evening zephyr dallies, And the light expiring rallies
In the stream, That spirit comes and glads me,
Like a dream.

The blue smoke upward curling, The silver streamlet purling, The meadow wildflowers furling
Their leaflets to repose: All woo me from the world
And its woes.

The evening bell that bringeth A truce to toil outringeth, No sweetest bird that singeth
Half so sweet, Not even the lark that springeth
From my feet.

Then see I God beside me, The sheltering trees that hide me, The mountains that divide me
From the sea: All prove how kind a Father
He can be.

Beneath the sweet moon shining The cattle are reclining, No murmur of repining
Soundeth sad: All feel the present Godhead,
And are glad.

With mute, unvoiced confessings, To the Giver of all blessings I kneel, and with caressings
Press the sod, And thank my Lord and Father,
And my God.


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!

And when the Autumn crowns the year, And ripened hangs the golden ear, And luscious fruits of ruddy hue The bending boughs are glancing through, When yellow leaves from sheltered nooks Come forth and try the mountain brooks, Even then I feel, as there I stray- 'Tis winter all when thou'rt away!

And when the winter comes at length, With swaggering gait and giant strength, And with his strong arms in a trice Binds up the streams in chains of ice, What need I sigh for pleasures gone, The twilight eve, the rosy dawn? My heart is changed as much as they- 'Tis winter all when thou'rt away!

Even now, when Summer lends the scene Its brightest gold, its purest green, Whene'er I climb the mountain's breast, With softest