Scoil: Bán-Tír (C.) (uimhir rolla 2804)

Ar an leathanach seo

1. Local Poets (ar lean)

   

   Roinn Roinn Postáil

   (ar lean ón leathanach roimhe)

   “Brave Lords and Purs, now lend your ears, and list ye all to me’
   This jewelled cup I will yield up to him, the Harper fee,
   Whose lyre’s soft swell shall all excel in tone and harmonie”.

   V
   Th’ applauding shout of Chiefs rang out as noble Cormac spoke,
   Then swept the chord each gentle Bard, ‘till sweetest music woke,
   The cadence clear fell on the ear like strains from Seraph loud,
   That princely prize each Harper tries to win from Cormac’s hand.

   VI
   A youth there came, Coleman his name, from green Duhallow’s vale,
   His golden hair, in ringlets rare, fell o’er his brow so pale,
   His air was meek, upon his cheek the bloom of boyhood years
   Still slept secure, unstained I ween, by sorrow’s bitter tears.

   VII
   With timid look, his place he took before that august throng,
   And when to play he did essay he faltered in his song
   But bardic fire soon did inspire his heart and hand right well,
   ‘Till King and all were held in thrall by Coleman’s music spell.

   VIII
   St. Cartage heard that youthful Bard, and full amazed was he,
   With holy love his heart did move unto the Harper fee
   “Ah me, dear youth, if thus, in sooth, you sing of earthly joy,

   (leanann ar an chéad leathanach eile)

   

   Tras-scríofa ag duine dár meitheal tras-scríbhneoirí deonacha.

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