And this shall be for music when no one else is near, The fine song for singing, the rare song to hear! That only I remember, that only you admire, Of the broad road that stretches and the roadside fire. 847. IN In the Highlands N the highlands, in the country places, Quiet eyes; Where essential silence chills and blesses, Broods and dies O to mount again where erst I haunted; And when even dies, the million-tinted, O to dream, O to awake and wander Quiet breath! Lo! for there, among the flowers and grasses, Life and death. UNDER the wide and starry sky Dig the grave and let me lie: Glad did I live and gladly die, And I laid me down with a will. ; This be the verse you grave for me: T. W. ROLLESTON The Dead at Clonmacnois b. 1857 849. FROM THE IRISH OF ANGUS O'GILLAN Na quiet water'd land, a land of roses, IN Stands Saint Kieran's city fair; And the warriors of Erin in their famous generations There beneath the dewy hillside sleep the noblest Each below his stone with name in branching Ogham There they laid to rest the seven Kings of Tara, Battle-banners of the Gael that in Kieran's plain of crosses And in Clonmacnois they laid the men of Teffia, Deep the sod above Clan Creidè and Clan Conaill, 2246 1025 Many and many a son of Conn the Hundred-Fighter Many a blue eye of Clan Colman the turf covers, JOHN DAVIDSON 850. THE Song HE boat is chafing at our long delay, The spicy sea-pinks and the inborne spray, The tawny sands, the moon. Keep us, O Thetis, in our western flight! 851. The Last Rose WHICH is the last rose ? ' At midnight the snow came; Its odourless pallor Establish'd the morn 1857-1909 Till the night In her fight With the sun. The brave orb in state rose, The red rose of morn A white rose at noon turn'd; But at sunset reborn All red again soon burn'd. Of the moon lay. But the vast rose Was scentless, And this is the reason: When the blast rose Relentless, And brought in due season Congeal'd in its breath, Then came with it treason; In lee-valleys crowded, |