KEENE; OR, LAMENT OF AN IRISH MOTHER OVER HER SON.
[This lament is intended to imitate the peculiar style of the Irish Keenes, many of which are distinguished by a wild and deep pathos, and other characteristics analogous to those of the national music.]
Darkly the cloud of night comes rolling on;
Darker is thy repose, my fair-hair’d son!
Silent and dark!
There is blood upon the threshold
Whence thy step went forth at morn
Like a dancer’s in its fleetness,
O my bright first-born!
At the glad sound of that footstep