Page:Irish minstrelsy, vol 2 - Hardiman.djvu/121

 Rh See how the spoilers' stem the surge!
 * O'er Dathi's bark the winds prevail.

She hangs upon the billow's verge,
 * With groaning plank and shivered sail.

The tempest howls—the writhing wave
 * Surrounds her, yawning to devour;

Will not her sons unite to save?
 * Oh! shield her in this perilous hour!

Why, tame ones! can ye not resign
 * The blood of kings, that through you runs?

Who broke the rule of Balar's line?
 * Say—are not ye Milesius' sons?

Like those redeemed from Ilium's fall,
 * To wander o'er the pathless main;

Proud Temor, Tailltean, we recall.
 * But ne'er shall see their pomp again.

As rose the voice of Israel's wail,
 * From Egypt breathing to her God;

By dark Bovinda's wave the Gael,
 * Weep for the fields their fathers' trod.