Sunday Poem: Sir Samuel Ferguson – The Fair Hills of Ireland

Sir Samuel Ferguson. 1810–1886
  
The Fair Hills of Ireland
FROM THE IRISH
  
PLENTEOUS place is Ireland for hospitable cheer,  
                Uileacan dubh O!  
Where the wholesome fruit is bursting from the yellow barley ear;  
                Uileacan dubh O!  
There is honey in the trees where her misty vales expand,          5
And her forest paths in summer are by falling waters fann’d,  
There is dew at high noontide there, and springs i’ the yellow sand,  
        On the fair hills of holy Ireland.  
 
Curl’d he is and ringleted, and plaited to the knee—  
                Uileacan dubh O!   10
Each captain who comes sailing across the Irish Sea;  
                Uileacan dubh O!  
And I will make my journey, if life and health but stand,  
Unto that pleasant country, that fresh and fragrant strand,  
And leave your boasted braveries, your wealth and high command,   15
        For the fair hills of holy Ireland.  
 
Large and profitable are the stacks upon the ground,  
                Uileacan dubh O!  
The butter and the cream do wondrously abound;  
                Uileacan dubh O!   20
The cresses on the water and the sorrels are at hand,  
And the cuckoo ‘s calling daily his note of music bland,  
And the bold thrush sings so bravely his song i’ the forests grand,  
        On the fair hills of holy Ireland.
About these ads

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s