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Has sorrow thy young days shaded
As clouds o’er the morning fleet
To fast have those young days faded
That even in sorrow were sweet
Does time with his cold wind wither
Each feeling that once was dear.
Then, child of misfortune, come hither
I’ll weep with thee tear for tear
Has hope like the bird in the story
That fleeted from tree to tree
Like the talisman’s glittering glory –
Has hope been that bird to thee?
On branch after branch alighting,
The gem did she still display,
And, when nearest and most inviting.
Then take the fair gem away
If thus the young hours have fleeted
When sorrow itself looked bright
If thus the fair hope had cheated,
that lead thee along so light
If thus the cold world now wither
Each feeling that once was dear
Then, child of misfortune, come hither,
And I’ll weep with thee tear for tear
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At the mid hour of night, when stars are weeping, I fly
To the lone vale we lov'd, when life shone warm in thine eye;
And I think that, if spirits can steal from the regions of air,
To visit past scenes of delight, thou wilt come to me there,
And tell me our love is remember'd, ev'n in the sky
Then I sing the wild song, which once 'twas rapture to hear
When our voices both mingling, breath'd like one on the ear;
And, as echo far off through the vale my sad orison rolls,
I think, oh my love! 'tis thy voice from the kingdom of souls
Faintly answering still the notes that once were so dear.
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3. |
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Farewell, but whenever you welcome the hour
That awakens the night-song of mirth in your bower,
Then think of the friend who once welcom'd it too,
And forgot his own griefs to be happy with you.
His griefs may return, not a hope may remain,
Of the few that had brighten'd his pathway of pain,
But he ne'er will forget the short vision that threw,
It's enchantment around him, while ling'ring with you.
And still on that evening when pleasure fills up,
To the highest top sparkle each heart and each cup,
Where 'ere my path lies, be it gloomy or bright,
My soul, happy friends, shall be with you that night.
Shall join in your revels, your sports, and your wiles,
And return to me beaming, all o'er with your smiles.
Too, blest if it tells me that 'mid the gay cheer,
Some kind voice had murmer'd, "I wish he were here!"
Let Fate do her worst, there are relics of joy,
Bright dreams of the past, which she cannot destroy,
Which come in the night-time of sorrow and care,
And bring back the features that joy used to wear.
Long, long be my heart with such memories fill'd,
Like the vase in which roses have once been distill'd.
You may break, you may ruin the vase if you will,
But the scent of the roses will hang 'round it still.
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4. |
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The Minstrel Boy to the war is gone
In the ranks of death you will find him;
His father's sword he hath girded on,
And his wild harp slung behind him;
"Land of Song!" said the warrior bard,
"Tho' all the world betrays thee,
One sword, at least, thy rights shall guard,
One faithful harp shall praise thee!"
The Minstrel fell! But the foeman's chain
Could not bring that proud soul under;
The harp he lov'd ne'er spoke again,
For he tore its chords asunder;
And said "No chains shall sully thee,
Thou soul of love and brav'ry!
Thy songs were made for the pure and free,
They shall never sound in slavery!"
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5. |
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Oft in the stilly night
Ere slumber's chain has bound me,
Fond Mem'ry brings the light
Of other days around me:
The smiles, the tears of boyhood's years,
The words of love then spoken;
The eyes that shone,
Now dimm'd and gone,
The cheerful hearts now broken!
Thus in the stilly night
Ere slumber's chain has bound me,
Sad Mem'ry brings the light
Of other days around me.
When I remember all
The friends, so link'd together,
I've seen around me fall
Like leaves in wintry weather,
I feel like one
Who treads alone
Some banquet-hall deserted,
Whose lights are fled,
Whose garlands dead,
And all but he departed!
Thus in the stilly night
Ere slumber's chain has bound me,
Sad Mem'ry brings the light
Of other days around me.
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6. |
Love Thee Dearest
03:05
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Love thee dearest love thee
Yet by yonder star I swear
Which through tears above thee
Shine so sadly fair
Thou too oft dim with tears like him
Like him my truth will shine
And love thee dearest love thee
Yes - till death I’m thine
Leave thee dearest leave thee
No – that star is not more true
When my vows deceive thee
He will wander too
A cloud of night may veil his light
And death shall darken mine
But leave thee dearest leave thee
No – till death I’m thine
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Believe me if all those endearing young charms
which I gaze on so fondly today
were to change by tomorrow and fleet in my arms
like fairy gifts fading away
Thou wouldst still be adored
as this moment thou art
let thy lovliness fade as it will
and arounf the dear ruin each wish of my heart
would entwine itself verdantly still
it is not while beauty and youth are thine own
and thy cheek unprofaned by a tear
that the fervor and faith of a sould can be known
to which time will but make thee more dear
oh the heart that has loved never truly forgets
but as truly lives on to the close
as the sunflower turns on her God as He sets
the same look that she gave when He rose
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8. |
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There is not in the wild world a valley so sweet
As the vale in whose bosom the bright waters meet;
Oh! the last rays of feeling and life must depart
Ere, the bloom of that valley shall fade from my heart
Ere, the bloom of that valley shall fade from my heart
Yet it was not that nature had shed o'er the scene
Her purest of crystal and brightest of green;
"twas not her soft magic of streamlet or rill
Oh! no, it was something more exquisite still
Oh! no, it was something more exquisite still
"twas that friends, the belov'd of my bosom, were near
Who made every dear scene of enchantment more dear;
And who felt how the best charms of nature improve
When we see them reflected from looks that we love
When we see them reflected from looks that we love
Sweet vale of avoca, how calm could I rest
In thy bosom of shade with the friends I love best
Where the storm that we feel in this cold world should cease
And our hearts like thy waters, be mingled in peace
And our hearts like thy waters, be mingled in peace
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Erin! the tear and the smile in thine eyes
Blend like the rainbow that hangs in thy skies!
Shining through sorrow’s stream,
Saddening through pleasure’s beam,
Thy suns, with doubtful gleam,
Weep while they rise!
Erin! thy silent tear never shall cease,
Erin! thy languid smile ne’er shall increase,
Till, like the rainbow’s light,
Thy various tints unite,
And form, in Heaven’s sight,
One arch of peace!
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10. |
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'Tis the last rose of summer
Left blooming all alone,
All her lovely companions
Are faded and gone.
No flower of her kindred,
No rose bud is nigh,
To reflect back her blushes,
And give sigh for sigh.
I'll not leave thee, thou lone one,
To pine on the stem.
Since the lovely are sleeping,
Go sleep now with them.
Thus kindly I scatter
Thy leaves o'er the bed
Where thy mates of the garden
Lie scentless and dead.
So soon may I follow
When friendships decay,
And from love's shining circle
The gems drop away!
When true hearts lie withered
And fond ones are flown
Oh! Who would inhabit
This bleak world alone?
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11. |
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The harp that once through Tara's halls
the soul of music shed
now hangs as mute on Tara's walls
as if the soul were fled
So sleeps the pride of former days so glory's thrill is over
and hearts that once beat high for praise
now feels that pulse no more
No more to chiefs and ladies bright
the harp of Tara' swells
the chord alone that breaks at night
its tale of ruin tells
Thus freedon now so seldom wakes
the only throb she gives
is when some heart indignant breaks
to show that still she lives
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Colman Rushe AL, Spain
Colman Rushe is an Irish writer and musician who lives in Spain. He has published a number of books which are available at www.amazon.co.uk/~/e/B00IHF5XHK. He also blogs at colmanrushe.wordpress.com
Colman Rushe recommends:
Blonde On The Tracks
by Emma Swift
Beautiful sensitive interpretations which bring new life to some Dylan songs.
go to album
Arguably the best album by the late Terry Clarke. Great songs, lyrics and performance. Irish inspired music at its best.
go to albumIf you like Colman Rushe, you may also like:
Winter Of Discontent
by Knomad Spock
The British-Somali poet draws upon everything from leftfield folk to minimalist spoken-word, bound together by simple-yet-cutting wordplay.
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Small Small
by Isaac Birituro & The Rail Abandon
featured on Bandcamp Radio Jun 28, 2022
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From Cork, Ireland, Lewis Barfoot writes mystic, majestic songs derived from regional folk, with an ambient music aura.
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featured on Bandcamp Radio Jul 27, 2021
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