COLD ELPHIN.
Long was last night in cold Elphin,
More long is to-night on its weary way,
Though yesterday seemed to me long and ill,
Yet longer still was this dreary day.
And long, for me, is each hour new-born,
I fall forlorn to grinding grief
For the hunting lands, and the Fenian bands,
And the long-haired generous Fenian Chief.
I make no music, I find no feast,
I slay no beast from a bounding steed,
I give no gold, I am poor and old,
I am cursed and cold without wine or mead.
No more I court, and I hunt no more,
These were before my strong delight,
I have ceased to slay, and I take no prey,
—Weary the day and long the night.
No heroes come in their war array,
No game I play, and no gold I win;
I swim no stream with my men of might,
—Long is to-night in cold Elphin.
Would I were gone from this evil earth,
I am wan with dearth, I am old and thin,
Carrying stones in my own despite,
—Long is to-night in cold Elphin.
Ask, O Patrick, of God, for grace,
And tell me what place he will hold me in,
And save my soul from the Ill One's might
—For long is to-night in cold Elphin.