Classic Poem

(Aotron Nann Hag ar Gorrigan.)

The good Lord Nann and his fair bride
Were young when wedlock's knot was tied —
Were young when death did them divide.

But yesterday that lady fair
Two babes as white as snow did bear;
A man-child and a girl they were.

" Now, say what is thy heart's desire,
For making me a man-child's sire?
'Tis thine, whate'er thou may'st require, —

" What food soe'er thee lists to take,
Meat of the woodcock from the lake,
Meat of the wild deer from the brake. "

" Oh, the meat of the deer is dainty food!
To eat thereof would do me good,
But I grudge to send thee to the wood. "

The Lord of Nann, when this he heard,
Hath gripp'd his oak spear with never a word;
His bonny black horse he hath leap'd upon,
And forth to the greenwood hath he gone

By the skirts of the wood as he did go,
He was ware of a hind as white as snow.

Oh, fast she ran, and fast he rode,
That the earth it shook where his horse-hoofs trode.

Oh, fast he rode, and fast she ran,
That the sweat to drop from his brow began —

That the sweat on his horse's flank stood white;
So he rode and rode till the fall o' the night.

When he came to a stream that fed a lawn,
Hard by the grot of a Corrigaun.

The grass grew thick by the streamlet's brink,
And he lighted down off his horse to drink.

The Corrigaun sat by the fountain fair,
A-combing her long and yellow hair.

A-combing her hair with a comb of gold, —
(Not poor, I trow, are those maidens cold). —

" Now who's the bold wight that dares come here
To trouble my fairy fountain clear?

" Either thou straight shall wed with me,
Or pine for four long years and three;
Or dead in three days' space shall be. "

" I will not wed with thee, I ween,
For wedded man a year I've been;

" Nor yet for seven years will I pine,
Nor die in three days for spell of thine;

" For spell of thine I will not die,
But when it pleaseth God on high.

" But here, and now, I'd leave my life,
Ere take a Corrigaun to wife.

*****

" O mother, mother! for love of me,
Now make my bed, and speedily,
For I am sick as a man can be.

" Oh, never the tale to my lady tell;
Three days and ye'll hear my passing bell;
The Corrigaun hath cast her spell. "

Three days they pass'd, three days were sped,
To her mother-in-law the ladye said:

" Now tell me, madam, now tell me, pray,
Wherefore the death-bells toll to-day?

" Why chaunt the priests in the street below,
All clad in their vestments white as snow? "

" A strange poor man, who harbour'd here,
He died last night, my daughter dear. "

" But tell me, madam, my lord, your son —
My husband — whither is he gone? "

" But to the town, my child, he's gone;
And at your side he'll be back anon. "

" What gown for my churching were't best to wear, —
My gown of grain, or of watchet fair? "

" The fashion of late, my child, hath grown,
That women for churching black should don. "

As through the churchyard porch she stept,
She saw the grave where her husband slept.

" Who of our blood is lately dead,
That our ground is new raked and spread? "

" The truth I may no more forbear,
My son — your own poor lord — lies there! "

She threw herself on her knees amain,
And from her knees ne'er rose again.

That night they laid her, dead and cold,
Beside her lord, beneath the mould;
When, lo! — a marvel to behold! —

Next morn from the grave two oak-trees fair,
Shot lusty boughs high up in air;

And in their boughs — oh wondrous sight! —
Two happy doves, all snowy white —

That sang, as ever the morn did rise,
And then flew up — into the skies!