Who wrested a meagre guerdon from the breast of this lean land!
[p 13]
]O a song for Joyce’s Country, since it haunts one like a dream
That comes in the dusk ere dawning, ere the first bright sunrise beam;
A dream of dolor and vastness, of clouds that are swept and swirled
O’er the desolate wastes and waters of a joy-forsaken world!
[p 14]
]BALLAD OF PROTESTANT’S LEAP
It was Sir Frederick Hamilton’s men
Were hungry for the fray,
And it was a son of the bog and fen
Would guide them on their way.