Читать книгу Lyra Celtica: An Anthology of Representative Celtic Poetry онлайн

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The song has ceased!—

Their bosoms meet;—

Like the young and stainless rose

Her lips are pressed to his!—

Blessed be that commune sweet!

Recalling the joy which returns no more—

Blessed be thy soul, my love!

Thou maid with the bright flowing locks.

Hast thou forsaken me, O dream!

Once more return again!

Alas! thou art gone, and I am sad—

Bless thee, my love—farewell!

Friends of my youth, farewell!

Farewell, ye maids of love!

I see you now no more—with you is summer still,

With me—the winter night!

O lay me by the roaring fall,

By the sound of the murmuring craig,

Let the cruit and the shell be near,

And the shield of my father’s wars.

O breeze of Ocean come,

With the sound of thy gentle course,

Raise me on thy wings, O wind,

And bear me to the isle of rest;

Where the heroes of old are gone,

To the sleep which shall wake no more

Open the hall of Ossian and Daol—

The night is come—the bard departs!

Behold my dim grey mist!—

I go to the dwelling of bards on the hill!