Full Online Books
BOOK CATEGORIES
Authors Authors Short Stories Short Stories Long Stories Long Stories Funny Stories Funny Stories Love Stories Love Stories Stories For Kids Stories For Kids Poems Poems Essays Essays Nonfictions Nonfictions Plays Plays Folktales Folktales Fairy Tales Fairy Tales Fables Fables Learning Kitchen Learning Kitchen
LINKS
Valid XHTML 1.0 Transitional Free Classified Website Without Registration Free Classified Website Daniel Company
Twitter Twitter Add book
donate
Full Online Book HomePoemsTo The Memory Of Father Prout
Famous Authors (View All Authors)
To The Memory Of Father Prout Post by :David_Cash Category :Poems Author :Denis Florence Maccarthy Date :October 2011 Read :2119

Click below to download : To The Memory Of Father Prout (Format : PDF)

To The Memory Of Father Prout

In deep dejection, but with affection,
I often think of those pleasant times,
In the days of Fraser, ere I touched a razor,
How I read and revell'd in thy racy rhymes;
When in wine and wassail, we to thee were vassal,
Of Watergrass-hill, O renowned P.P.!
May the bells of Shandon
Toll blithe and bland on
The pleasant waters of thy memory!

Full many a ditty, both wise and witty,
In this social city have I heard since then
(With the glass before me, how the dream comes o'er me,
Of those Attic suppers, and those vanished men).
But no song hath woken, whether sung or spoken,
Or hath left a token of such joy in me
As "The Bells of Shandon
That sound so grand on
The pleasant waters of the river Lee."

The songs melodious, which--a new Harmodius--
"Young Ireland" wreathed round its rebel sword,
With their deep vibrations and aspirations,
Fling a glorious madness o'er the festive board!
But to me seems sweeter, with a tone completer,
The melodious metre that we owe to thee--
Of the bells of Shandon
That sound so grand on
The pleasant waters of the river Lee.

There's a grave that rises o'er thy sward, Devizes,
Where Moore lies sleeping from his land afar,
And a white stone flashes over Goldsmith's ashes
In quiet cloisters by Temple Bar;
So where'er thou sleepest, with a love that's deepest,
Shall thy land remember thy sweet song and thee,
While the Bells of Shandon
Shall sound so grand on
The pleasant waters of the river Lee.


(The end)
Denis Florence MacCarthy's poem: To The Memory Of Father Prout

If you like this book please share to your friends :
NEXT BOOKS

Those Shandon Bells Those Shandon Bells

Those Shandon Bells
(The remains of the Rev. Francis Mahony were laid in the family burial-place in St. Anne Shandon Churchyard, the "Bells," which he has rendered famous, tolling the knell of the poet, who sang of their sweet chimes.)Those Shandon bells, those Shandon bells!Whose deep, sad tone now sobs, now swells--Who comes to seek this hallowed ground,And sleep within their sacred sound?'Tis one who heard these chimes when young,And who in age their praises sung,Within whose breast their music madeA dream of home where'er he strayed.And, oh! if bells have power to-dayTo drive all evil things away,Let doubt be dumb, and envy cease--And
PREVIOUS BOOKS

Spring Flowers From Ireland Spring Flowers From Ireland

Spring Flowers From Ireland
On receiving an early crocus and some violets in a letter from Ireland.Within the letter's rustling fold I find once more a glad surprise--A little tiny cup of gold-- Two little lovely violet eyes;A cup of gold with emeralds set, Once filled with wine from happier spheres;Two little eyes so lately wet With spring's delicious dewy tears.Oh! little eyes that wept and laughed, Now bright with smiles, with tears now dim,Oh! little cup that once was quaffed By fay-queens fluttering round thy rim.I press each silken fringe's fold, Sweet little eyes once more ye
NEXT 10 BOOKS | PREVIOUS 10 BOOKS | RANDOM 10 BOOKS
LEAVE A COMMENT