Margaret McLoughlin

The Valley lay smiling before me.

ByThomas Moore

The valley lay smiling before me where lately I left her behind
Yet I trembled and something hung o’er me
That saddened the hoys of my mind
I looked for the lamp which she told me
Should shine when her pilgrim returned
But though darkness began to enfold me
No lamp from the battlements burned

I flew to her chamber t’was lonely
As if the young tenant lay dead
Ah would it were death and death only
But no the young false one had fled
And there hung the lute that could soften
My very worst pains into bliss
While the hand that had waked it so often
Now throbbed to a pride livals kiss

While now oh degenerate daughter of Erin
How fallen is thy fame
Through ages of bondage and slaughter
Thy country shall bleed for thy shame
But onward the green banners rearing
Go flesh every sword to the hilt
On our side is virtue and Eireann
On theirs is the Saxon and guilt