Verse > Padraic Colum > Anthology of Irish Verse
Padraic Colum (1881–1972).  Anthology of Irish Verse.  1922.
131. The Dark Palace
By Alice Milligan
THERE beams no light from thy hall to-night,
  Oh, House of Fame;
No mead-vat seethes and no smoke upwreathes
  O’er the hearth’s red flame;
No high bard sings for the joy of thy kings,        5
  And no harpers play;
No hostage moans as thy dungeon rings
  As in Muircherteach’s day.
Fallen! fallen! to ruin all in
  The covering mould;        10
The painted yew, and the curtains blue,
  And the cups of gold;
The linen, yellow as the corn when mellow,
  That the princes wore;
And the mirrors brazen for your queens to gaze in,        15
  They are here no more.
The sea-bird’s pinion thatched Gormlai’s grinnan;
  And through windows clear,
Without crystal pane, in her Ard-righ’s reign
  She looked from here        20
There were quilts of eider on her couch of cedar;
  And her silken shoon
Were as green and soft as the leaves aloft
  On a bough in June.
Ah, woe unbounded where the harp once sounded        25
  The wind now sings;
The grey grass shivers where the mead in rivers
  Was outpoured for kings;
The min and the mether are lost together
  With the spoil of the spears;        30
The strong dun only has stood dark and lonely
  Through a thousand years.
But I’m not in woe for the wine-cup’s flow,
  For the banquet’s cheer,
For tall princesses with their trailing tresses        35
  And their broidered gear;
My grief and my trouble for this palace noble
  With no chief to lead
’Gainst the Saxon stranger on the day of danger
  Out of Aileach Neid.        40

Click here to shop the Bartleby Bookstore.

Shakespeare · Bible · Strunk · Anatomy · Nonfiction · Quotations · Reference · Fiction · Poetry
© 1993–2015 · [Top 150] · Subjects · Titles · Authors