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Poem by Anonymous

The Banshee

SHE sat beside the haunted stream
While t was crimsoned yet with the sunset beam,
And her long black hair with the wild winds flew,
And her robe was a robe of snowy hue,
And she gazed with sad, dark-glancing eye
Where Mac Cauras towers rose proud and high.

But sudden that gaze was past, and the one
That sat by the lonely stream was gone;
And aloft, on the misty mountains height
Was seen the dark form in snowy white,	
And wild and high, over hill and dale
Was heard the loud cry of the Banshees wail.

*        *        *        *        *

The fen fog fell, and the robe of white
Was dimmer seen on the mountains height,
And the long black locks still floated away,
Till the night glooms came as black as they,
And the form at length was in darkness shaded,
And the song at length was in distance faded.

But still the sounds in the listening ear,
With the cool calm gale, were wafted near,
And still the murmuring echoes fell
Oer heath-clad hill and oer moss-green dell,
And still they sung of woe and grief,
And blood, and death, to Mac Cauras chief.

*        *        *        *        *

The day-beam breaks on the green-hill side,
  And gleams over hill and river;
And the Saxons banner is floating wide,
With the blood of the hapless heroes dyed;
But Mac Cauras boast and Mac Cauras pride
  Is faded and lost forever.


Anonymous's other poems:
  1. The Maid of Dunmore
  2. Kate Kearney
  3. Lord Straffords Meditations in the Tower
  4. Now, Robin, Lend to Me Thy Bow
  5. Shan Van Vocht

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