King Henry's sword on council board, the English thanes among,
Ye never ceased to battle brave against the English sway,
Though axe and brand and treachery your proudest cut away.
Of Desmond's blood through woman's veins passed on th' exhausted tide;
His title lives—a Sacsanach churl usurps the lion's hide;
And, though Kildare tower haughtily, there's ruin at the root,
Else why, since Edward fell to earth, had such a tree no fruit?
VI.
True Geraldines! brave Geraldines!—as torrents mould the earth,
You channelled deep old Ireland's heart by constancy and worth: