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C.D. Warner, et al., comp.  The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes.  1917.
 
The Irish Maiden’s Song
By John (1798–1842) and Michael (1796–1874) Banim
 
YOU know it now—it is betrayed
  This moment in mine eye,
And in my young cheeks’ crimson shade,
  And in my whispered sigh.
You know it now—yet listen now—        5
  Though ne’er was love more true,
My plight and troth and virgin vow
  Still, still I keep from you,
                Ever!
 
Ever, until a proof you give        10
  How oft you’ve heard me say,
I would not even his empress live
  Who idles life away,
Without one effort for the land
  In which my fathers’ graves        15
Were hollowed by a despot hand
  To darkly close on slaves—
                Never!
 
See! round yourself the shackles hang,
  Yet come you to love’s bowers,        20
That only he may soothe their pang
  Or hide their links in flowers—
But try all things to snap them first,
  And should all fail when tried,
The fated chain you cannot burst        25
  My twining arms shall hide—
                Ever!
 
 
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