III.
These Geraldines! these Geraldines!—not long our air they breathed;
Not long they fed on venison, in Irish water seethed;
Not often had their children been by Irish mothers nursed;
When from their full and genial hearts an Irish feeling burst!
The English monarchs strove in vain, by law and force and bribe,
To win from Irish thoughts and ways this "more than Irish" tribe;
For still they clung to fosterage, to breitheamh[53] ] , cloak, and bard:
What king dare say to Geraldine, "your Irish wife discard?"
IV.