Lament For Banba

O MY land! O my love! What a woe, and how deep, Is thy death to my long mourning soul! God alone, God above, Can awake thee from sleep, Can release thee from bondage and dole! Alas, alas, and alas! For the once proud people of Banba! As a tree in its prime, Which the axe layeth low, Didst thou fall, O unfortunate land! Not by time, nor thy crime, Came the shock and the blow. They were given by a false felon hand! Alas, alas, and alas! For the once proud people of Banba! O, my grief of all griefs Is to see how thy throne Is usurped, whilst thyself art in thrall! Other lands have their chiefs, Have their kings, thou alone Art a wife, yet a widow withal! Alas, alas, and alas! For the once proud people of Banba! The high house of O’Neill Is gone down to the dust, The O’Brien is clanless and banned; And the steel, the red steel May no more be the trust Of the Faithful and Brave in the land! Alas, alas, and alas! For the once proud people of Banba! True, alas! Wrong and Wrath Were of old all too rife. Deeds were done which no good man admires And perchance Heaven hath Chastened us for the strife And the blood-shedding ways of our sires! Alas, alas, and alas! For the once proud people of Banba! But, no more! This our doom, While our hearts yet are warm, Let us not over weakly deplore! For the hour soon may loom When the Lord’s mighty hand Shall be raised for our rescue once more! And all our grief shall be turned into joy For the still proud people of Banba!