As Vanquished Erin

By Thomas Moore

As vanquished Erin wept beside
The Boyne's ill-fated river,
She saw where Discord, in the tide,
Had dropped his loaded quiver.
Lie hid, she cried, ye venomed darts,
Where mortal eye may shun you;
Lie hid -- for oh! the stain of hearts
That bled for me is on you.

But vain her wish, her weeping vain --
As Time too well hath taught her:
Each year the fiend returns again,
And dives into that water:
And brings triumphant, from beneath,
His shafts of desolation,
And sends them, winged with worse than death,
Throughout her maddening nation.

Alas for her who sits and mourns,
Even now beside that river --
Unwearied still the fiend returns,
And stored is still his quiver.
When will this end? ye Powers of Good!
She weeping asks for ever;
But only hears, from out that flood,
The demon answer, Never!