School: Abbeytown Convent N.S. (roll number 15043)

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1. Local Songs - My Native Town of Boyle (continued)

   

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   To mingle with the soil
   May their souls in Heaven rest in peace.
   While their bodies lie near Boyle.

   

   Transcribed by a member of our volunteer transcription project.

   History Edit

2. Local Songs

   “Like a sad strain of bardic music old”

   

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   I "Like a strain of bardic music old To substance wrought by weird enchantment's spell And built into beauty visible In grace austere of chastened charm and cold The Abbey stands amid the meadow's gold Silent its tower and mute its matin bell That ages since pealed to mountain and dell And o'er the land our Lad's anthems tolled. II How brave Moylurg from many a conquering fight Came here to thank God for victory! And of that day when in embattled might To death rode hence the Saxon chivalry. When Hugh O'Donnell held the Curlieu's Height, And Coyners Clifford fell at Ballagh Bwee! III And of that earlier age these stones could tell When great Columba trod the banks of Boyle, And blessed and fruitful made the fertile soil; When sweet Attracta held hard by her cell, And healed God's sick with prayer and miracle And later when to burn, and slay and spoil With guilt whereof no saint might them, asoil

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   Topics

   1. genre
      1. poetry
         1. folk poetry (~9,504)

   Language

   English

   Informant

   Patrick Coleman

   Gender

   Male