Reullura
Star of the morn and eve,
Reullura shone like thee,
And well for her might Aodh grieve,
The dark-attired Culdee.
Peace to their shades! the pure Culdees
Were Albyn's earliest priests of God,
Ere yet an island of her seas
By foot of Saxon monk was trod,
Long ere her churchmen by bigotry
Were barr'd from wedlock's holy tie.
'Twas then that Aodh, famed afar,
In Iona preach'd the word with power,
And Reullura, beauty's star,
Was the partner of his bower.
But, Aodh, the roof lies low,
And the thistle-down waves bleaching,
And the bat flits to and fro
Where the Gaël once heard thy preaching;
And fall'n is each column'd aisle
Where the chiefs and the people knelt.
'Twas near that temple's goodly pile
That honoured of men they dwelt.
For Aodh was wise in the sacred law,
And bright Reullura's eyes oft saw
The veil of fate uplifted.
Alas, with what visions of awe
Her soul in that hour was gifted —
When pale in the temple and faint,
With Aodh she stood alone
By the statue of an aged Saint!
Fair sculptured was the stone,
It bore a crucifix;
Fame said it once had graced
A Christian temple, which the Picts
In the Britons' land laid waste:
The Pictish men, by St. Columb taught,
Had hither the holy relic brought.
Reullura eyed the statue's face,
And cried, "It is, he shall come,
Even he, in this very place,
To avenge my martyrdom.
"For, woe to the Gaël people!
Ulvfagre is on the main,
And Iona shall look from tower and steeple
On the coming ships of the Dane;
And, dames and daughters, shall all your locks
With the spoiler's grasp entwine?
No! some shall have shelter in caves and rocks,
And the deep sea shall be mine.
Baffled by me shall the Dane return,
And here shall his torch in the temple burn,
Until that holy man shall plough
The waves from Innisfail.
His sail is on the deep e'en now,
And swells to the southern gale."
"Ah! knowest thou not, my bride,"
The holy Aodh said,
"That the Saint whose form we stand beside
Has for ages slept with the dead?"
"He liveth, he liveth," she said again,
"For the span of his life tenfold extends
Beyond the wonted years of men.
He sits by the graves of well-loved friends
That died ere they grandsire's grandsire's birth;
The oak is decayed with age on the earth,
Whose acorn-seed has been planted by him;
And his parents remember the day of dread
When the sun on the cross look'd dim,
And the graves gave up their dead.
Yet preaching from clime to clime,
He hath roam'd the earth for ages,
In time a remnant from the sword —
Ah! but a remnant to deliver;
Yet, blest be the name of the Lord!
His martyrs shall go into bliss for ever.
Lochlin, appall'd, shall put up her steel,
And thou shalt embark on the bounding keel;
Safe shalt thou pass through her hundred ships,
With the saint and a remnant of the Gaël,
And the Lord will instruct thy lips
To preach in Innisfail."
The sun, now about to set,
Was burning o'er Tiree,
And no gathering cry rose yet
O'er the isles of Albyn's sea,
Whilst Reullura saw far rowers dip
Their oars beneath the sun,
And the phantom of many a Danish ship,
Where ship there yet was none.
And the shield of alarm was dumb,
Nor did their warning till midnight come,
When watch-fires burst from across the main,
From Rona, and Uist, and Skye,
To tell that the ships of the Dane
And the red-hair'd slayers were nigh.
Our islemen arose from slumbers,
And buckled on their arms;
But few, alas! were their numbers
To Lochlin's mailed swarms.
And the blade of the bloody Norse
Has filled the shores of the Gaël
With many a floating corse,
And with many a woman's wail.
They have lighted the islands with ruin's torch,
And the holy men of Iona's church
In the temple of God lay slain,
All but Aodh, the last Culdee;
But bound with many an iron chain,
Bound in that church was he.
And where is Aodh's bride?
Rocks of the ocean flood!
Plunged she not from your heights in pride,
And mock'd the men of blood?
Then Ulvfagre and his bands
In the temple lighted their banquet up,
And the print of their blood-red hands
Was left on the altar cup.
'Twas then that the Norseman to Aodh said,
"Tell where thy church's treasure's laid,
Or I'll hew thee limb from limb."
As he spoke the bell struck three,
And every torch grew dim
That lighted their revelry.
But the torches again burnt bright,
And brighter than before,
When an aged man of majestic height
Enter'd the temple door.
Hush'd weas the revellers' sound,
They were struck as mute as the dead,
And their hearts were appall'd by the very sound
Of his footsteps' measured tread.
Nor word was spoken by one beholder,
Whilst he flung his white robe back on his shoulder,
And stretching his arms — as eath
Unriveted Aodh's bands,
As if the gyves had been a wreath
Of willows in his hands.
All saw the stranger's similitude
To the ancient statue's form;
The saint before his own image stood,
And grasp'd Ulvfagre's arm.
Then uprose the Danes at last to deliver
Their chief, and shouting with one accord,
They drew the shaft from its rattling quiver,
They lifted the spear and sword,
And levell'd their spears in rows.
But down went axes and spears and bows,
When the Saint with his crosier sign'd;
The archer's hand on the string was stopt,
And down, like reeds laid flat by the wind,
Their lifted weapons dropt.
The Saint then gave a signal mute,
And though Ulvfagre willed it not,
He came and stood at the statue's foot,
Spell-riveted to the spot, —
Till hands invisible shook the wall,
And the tottering image wa dash'd
Down from its lofty pedestal.
On Ulvfagre's helm it crash'd —
Helmet, and skull, and flesh, and brain,
It crushed as millstone crushes the grain.
Then spoke the Saint, whilst all and each
Of the Heathen trembled round,
And the pauses amidst his speech
Were as awful as the sound:
"Go back, ye wolves! To your dens," he cried,
"And tell the nations abroad,
How the fiercest of your herd has died
That slaughter'd the flock of God.
Gather him bone by bone,
And take with you o'er the flod
The fragments of that avenging stone
That drank his heathen blood.
These are the soils from Iona's sack,
The only spoils ye shall carry back;
For the hand that uplifteth spear or sword
Shall be wither'd by palsy's shock,
And I come in the name of the Lord
To deliver a remnant of his flock."
A remnant was call'd together,
A doleful remnant of the Gaël,
And the Saint in the ship that had brought him hither
Took the mourners to Innisfail.
Unscathed they left Iona's strand,
When the opal morn first flush'd the sky,
For the Norse dropt spear, and bow, and brand,
And look'd on them silently;
Safe from their hiding-places came
Orphans and mothers, child and dame:
But, alas! when the search for Reullura spread,
No answering voice was given,
For the sea had gone o'er her lovely head,
And her spirit was in Heaven.
poem by Thomas Campbell (1824)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Related quotes
A Star!
A star shone out so very bright,
Not just a little, simple one,
But one so special in our sight,
A new life had begun.
A star shone out so very clear,
Hung way up in a cloudless sky,
Over a stable, where a dear
Babe, heard a lullaby.
A star shone out so very bold,
Showing where this child was laid,
With a halo of the purist gold
Around his head, displayed.
A star shone out so very fine,
Leading us all to worship him,
One small human, pure and divine,
Our cup's full to the brim.
A star shone out so very great,
Beaming down on that Christmas birth,
And bands of angels did cantillate,
Praising God across our earth.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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The Missing Star
WHY did the star leave the sky,
The far, pure sky?
Shone she not high and hallowed and fair?
Could she not tarry her life-time there?
Why must she fall and fade?
She had heaven nigh.
I of the earth, I would she had stayed
In her lonely air.
Higher than love lived my star,
My clear, cold star.
Why must she droop to our mists below?
Ah, for the glory of long ago!
Ah, for the pride no more!
When she stood so far.
Would she were lost in the days before,
In the perished glow.
Star wandered out of my light,
Once all my light,
Seeing the sky through a dullness of tears,
Crying for thee to the empty years,
Where should I seek for thee
Mid the. desert night?
Not on the earth.
Ah! the star that nears
Has forgotten to be.
poem by Augusta Davies Webster
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From The Cantata For N. F. S. Grundtvig
His day was the greatest the Northland has seen,
It one was with the midnight-sun's wonders serene:
The light wherein he sat was the light of God's true peace,
And that has never morning, nor night when it must cease.
In light of God's peace shone the
history
he gave,
The spirit's course on earth that shall conquer the grave.
Might of God's pure peace thus our
fathers'
mighty way
Before us for example and warning open lay.
In light of God's peace he beheld with watchful eye
The people at their work and the spirit's strivings high.
In light of God's pure peace he would have all learning glow,
And where his word is honored the 'Folk-High-Schools' must grow.
In light of God's peace stood 'mid sorrow and care
For Denmark's folk his comfort, a castle strong and fair;
In light of God's pure peace there shall once again be won
And thousand-fold increased, what seems lost now and undone.
In light of God's peace stands his patriarch-worth,
The sum and the amen of a manful life on earth.
In light of God's pure peace how his face shone, lifted up,
When white-haired at the altar he held th' atoning cup.
In light of God's peace came his word o'er the wave,
In light of God's pure peace sound the sweet psalms he gave.
In light of God's pure peace, as its sunbeam curtains fall
To hide him from us, stands now his memory for all.
poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
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Ain't Gonna Grieve
by Bob Dylan
Well, I ain't a-gonna grieve no more, no more
Ain't a-gonna grieve no more, no more
Ain't a-gonna grieve no more, no more
And ain't a-gonna grieve no more.
Come on brother, join the band,
Come on sisters, clap your hands,
Tell everybody that's in the land,
You ain't a-gonna grieve no more.
Well, I ain't a-gonna grieve no more, no more
Ain't a-gonna grieve no more, no more
Ain't a-gonna grieve no more, no more
And ain't a-gonna grieve no more.
Brown and blue and white and black,
All one color on the one-way track,
We got this far and ain't a-goin' back
And ain't a-gonna grieve no more.
Well, I ain't a-gonna grieve no more, no more
Ain't a-gonna grieve no more, no more
Ain't a-gonna grieve no more, no more
I ain't a-gonna grieve no more.
We're gonna notify your next of kin,
You're gonna raise the roof until the house falls in.
If you get knocked down get up again,
We ain't a-gonna grieve no more.
Well, I ain't a-gonna grieve no more, no more
Ain't a-gonna grieve no more, no more
Ain't a-gonna grieve no more, no more
I ain't a-gonna grieve no more.
We'll sing this song all night long,
Sing it to my baby from midnight on.
She'll sing it to you when I'm dead and gone,
Ain't a-gonna grieve no more.
Well, I ain't a-gonna grieve no more, no more
Ain't a-gonna grieve no more, no more
Ain't a-gonna grieve no more, no more
I ain't a-gonna grieve no more
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Thee, Thee, Only Thee
The dawning of morn, the daylight's sinking,
The night's long hours still find me thinking
Of thee, thee, only thee.
When friends are met, and goblets crown'd,
And smiles are near, that once enchanted,
Unreach'd by all that sunshine round,
My soul, like some dark spot, is haunted
By thee, thee, only thee.
Whatever in fame's high path could waken
My spirit once, is now forsaken
For thee, thee, only thee.
Like shores, by which some headlong bark
To the ocean hurries, resting never,
Life's scenes go by me, bright or dark,
I know not, heed not, hastening ever
To thee, thee, only thee.
I have not a joy but of thy bringing,
And pain itself seems sweet when springing
From thee, thee, only thee.
Like spells, that nought on earth can break,
Till lips, that know the charm, have spoken,
This heart, howe'er the world may wake
Its grief, its scorn, can but be broken
By thee, thee, only thee.
poem by Thomas Moore
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To Eliza
Eliza, tell thy lover why
Or what induced thee to deceive me?
Fare thee well--away I fly--
I shun the lass who thus will grieve me.
Eliza, still thou art my song,
Although by force I may forsake thee;
Fare thee well, for I was wrong
To woo thee while another take thee.
Eliza, pause and think a while--
Sweet lass! I shall forget thee never:
Fare thee well! although I smile,
I grieve to give thee up forever.
Eliza, I shall think of thee--
My heart shall ever twine about thee;
Fare thee well--but think of me,
Compell'd to live and die without thee.
'Fare thee well!--and if forever,
Still forever fare thee well!'
poem by George Moses Horton
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A Sonnet of Battle
RELUCTANT Morn, whose meagre radiance lies
With doubtful glimmer on the farthest hills,
How long shall men, reiterant of their ills,
With peevish invocation bid thee rise
To burn to noontide glory in the skies
That now a gloom perplexed and starless fills,
And seek from thee and not their own strong wills
That perfect good which is not bought with sighs?
Why weep and wait for thee, though laggard, Morn,
With all thy joys of love and peace and light?
For us the mightier joy that rives the soul,
When, slaves no longer to a day unborn,
Our flag of war along the dark we unroll
For fell encounter with the hosts of Night.
poem by William Gay
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I See Stars
I saw a star in Venice
I saw a star tonight
I saw a star falling then regain its flight.
I saw a star in Rio
I saw a star in you
I saw a star twinkling in different shades of blue.
I saw a star in Heaven
I saw a star in Hell
But never did I see a star twinkling on my world.
I've seen a star fading
I've seen it cross the sky
I've seen so many different stars trying not to die
I've seen them come together
I've watched them grow apart
I have seen so many stars in a lovers heart.
I've seen the stars exploding
I've seen the quiet and calm
I've heard them whisper secrets in a world full of harm
I saw a star twinkling in different shades of blue
But never in all my life have i seen a star like you...
poem by Coen Carter
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On An Icicle That Clung To The Grass Of A Grave
I.
Oh! take the pure gem to where southerly breezes,
Waft repose to some bosom as faithful as fair,
In which the warm current of love never freezes,
As it rises unmingled with selfishness there,
Which, untainted by pride, unpolluted by care,
Might dissolve the dim icedrop, might bid it arise,
Too pure for these regions, to gleam in the skies.
II.
Or where the stern warrior, his country defending,
Dares fearless the dark-rolling battle to pour,
Or o'er the fell corpse of a dread tyrant bending,
Where patriotism red with his guilt-reeking gore
Plants Liberty's flag on the slave-peopled shore,
With victory's cry, with the shout of the free,
Let it fly, taintless Spirit, to mingle with thee.
III.
For I found the pure gem, when the daybeam returning,
Ineffectual gleams on the snow-covered plain,
When to others the wished-for arrival of morning
Brings relief to long visions of soul-racking pain;
But regret is an insult—to grieve is in vain:
And why should we grieve that a spirit so fair
Seeks Heaven to mix with its own kindred there?
IV.
But still 'twas some Spirit of kindness descending
To share in the load of mortality's woe,
Who over thy lowly-built sepulchre bending
Bade sympathy's tenderest teardrop to flow.
Not for THEE soft compassion celestials did know,
But if ANGELS can weep, sure MAN may repine,
May weep in mute grief o'er thy low-laid shrine.
V.
And did I then say, for the altar of glory,
That the earliest, the loveliest of flowers I'd entwine,
Though with millions of blood-reeking victims 'twas gory,
Though the tears of the widow polluted its shrine,
Though around it the orphans, the fatherless pine?
Oh! Fame, all thy glories I'd yield for a tear
To shed on the grave of a heart so sincere.
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Morning Hymn
Christ, whose glory fills the skies,
Christ, the true, the only light,
Sun of Righteousness, arise,
Triumph o'er the shades of night:
Day-spring from on high, be near:
Day-star, in my heart appear.
Dark and cheerless is the morn
Unaccompanied by thee,
Joyless is the day's return,
Till thy mercy's beams I see;
Till thy inward light impart,
Glad my eyes, and warm my heart.
Visit then this soul of mine,
Pierce the gloom of sin, and grief,
Fill me, Radiancy Divine,
Scatter all my unbelief,
More and more thyself display,
Shining to the perfect day.
poem by Charles Wesley
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Feast Of The Assumption
Dark! Dark! Dark!
The sun is set; the day is dead:
Thy Feast has fled;
My eyes are wet with tears unshed;
I bow my head;
Where the star-fringed shadows softly sway
I bend my knee,
And, like a homesick child, I pray,
Mary, to thee.
Dark! Dark! Dark!
And, all the day -- since white-robed priest
In farthest East,
In dawn's first ray -- began the Feast,
I -- I the least --
Thy least, and last, and lowest child,
I called on thee!
Virgin! didst hear? my words were wild;
Didst think of me?
Dark! Dark! Dark!
Alas! and no! The angels bright,
With wings as white
As a dream of snow in love and light,
Flashed on thy sight;
They shone like stars around thee, Queen!
I knelt afar --
A shadow only dims the scene
Where shines a star!
Dark! Dark! Dark!
And all day long, beyond the sky,
Sweet, pure, and high,
The angel's song swept sounding by
Triumphantly;
And when such music filled thy ear,
Rose round thy throne,
How could I hope that thou wouldst hear
My far, faint moan?
Dark! Dark! Dark!
And all day long, where altars stand,
Or poor or grand,
A countless throng from every land,
With lifted hand,
Winged hymns to thee from sorrow's vale
In glad acclaim;
How couldst thou hear my lone lips wail
Thy sweet, pure name?
Dark! Dark! Dark!
Alas! and no! Thou didst not hear
Nor bend thy ear,
To prayer of woe as mine so drear;
For hearts more dear
Hid me from hearing and from sight
This bright Feast-day;
Wilt hear me, Mother, if in its night
I kneel and pray?
Dark! Dark! Dark!
The sun is set, the day is dead;
Thy Feast hath fled;
My eyes are wet with the tears I shed;
I bow my head;
Angels and altars hailed thee, Queen,
All day; ah! be
To-night what thou hast ever been --
A mother to me!
Dark! Dark! Dark!
Thy queenly crown in angels' sight
Is fair and bright;
Ah! lay it down; for, oh! to-night
Its jeweled light
Shines not as the tender love-light shines,
O Mary! mild,
In the mother's eyes, whose pure heart pines
For poor, lost child!
Dark! Dark! Dark!
Sceptre in hand, thou dost hold sway
Fore'er and aye
In angel-land; but, fair Queen! pray
Lay it away.
Let thy sceptre wave in the realms above
Where angels are;
But, Mother! fold in thine arms of love
Thy child afar!
Dark! Dark! Dark!
Mary, I call! Wilt hear the prayer
My poor lips dare?
Yea! be to all a Queen most fair,
Crown, sceptre, bear!
But look on me with a mother's eyes
From heaven's bliss;
And waft to me from the starry skies
A mother's kiss!
Dark! Dark! Dark!
The sun is set; the day is dead;
Her Feast has fled;
Can she forget the sweet blood shed,
The last words said
That evening -- 'Woman! behold thy Son!
Oh! priceless right,
Of all His children! The last, least one,
Is heard to-night.
poem by Abram Joseph Ryan
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The Bob
(ferry)
I dreamed last night about your face
Your star shone all night
Over the moon it shone brighter
Star shining so bright
You were so pure not for this world
So gentle and light
How could i hear their stories?
They told me not right
Too many times beautiful
Too many times sad
Too many times wonderful
Too bad
Spoken: "but when the party was over, and all was quiet and still,
We walked together in moonlight and looked down over the calm lake,
Hand in hand, the stars in our eyes."
So in my dream you still loved me
Gave time reason last night
But this was only lifes story
Made simple thats right
song performed by by Roxy Music
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Bob (medley)
(ferry)
I dreamed last night about your face
Your star shone all night
Over the moon it shone brighter
Star shining so bright
You were so pure not for this world
So gentle and light
How could I hear their stories?
They told me not right
Too many times beautiful
Too many times sad
Too many times wonderful
Too bad
Spoken: "but when the party was over, and all was quiet and still,
We walked together in moonlight and looked down over the calm lake,
Hand in hand, the stars in our eyes."
So in my dream you still loved me
Gave time reason last night
But this was only lifes story
Made simple thats right
song performed by by Roxy Music
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shades Of Purple
The night has fallen
The echoes and unearthly pathos have come calling
The streets are empty tonight
And you look so pretty
With those flowers in your hair
The musty smell fills the air
The night is full, in shades of purple
Your hand in mine
We watch the clouds roll by
In the dark purple sky
By the night sea
Everything will be peaceful as can be
The ferryman is waiting for you and me
And so we come aboard
And we are taken through the quiet tunnels, lullaby streams, and peaceful waterways
And toward a star kissed, star blessed, star dusted destination
Especially on this night covered in shades of purple
poem by Justin Gildow
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Early Affeection
I loved thee from the earliest dawn,
When first I saw thy beauty's ray;
And will until life's eve comes on,
And beauty's blossom fades away;
And when all things go well with thee,
With smiles or tears remember me.
I'll love thee when thy morn is past
And wheedling galantry is o'er,
When youth is lost in age's blast,
And beauty can ascend no more;
And when life's journey ends with thee,
O then look back and think of me.
I'll love thee with a smile or frown,
Mid sorrow's gloom or pleasure's light;
And when the chain of life runs down,
Pursue thy last eternal flight;
When thou hast spread thy wing to flee,
Still, still a moment wait for me.
I love thee for those sparkling eyes,
To which my fondness was betray'd,
Bearing the tincture of the skies,
To glow when other beauties fade;
And when they sink too low to see,
Reflect an azure beam on me.
poem by George Moses Horton
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In Thee I Trust
Thee has created me with love,
To love.
Thou has forgiven my sins
As vast as the ocean
My only true love
In Thee I depend
For waking each morn’
My daily sustanance
To Thee I pray
Ever so humble and thankful
For my every blessing received
I kneel to Thee
Thee sent Rumi in my dreams
To show me the way
The narrow ledge I am to cross
He showed me how
Swifty without fear
Of what lies below
He showed me how to fly inThine Mercy
And truly “yaqeen” in Thee
My beloved creator
Who knows the depth of my heart
To Thee
I leave all my affairs
My every thought,
Am consumed by Thee
My heart echoes Thy name
My life in Thine hands
In Thee lies my destiny
To Thee I yearn to return
Pure of heart and soul...
poem by Persian Khushi
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Star Carol
Long years ago on a deep winter night
High in the heavens, a star shone bright
While in the manger, a wee baby lay
Sweetly asleep on a bed of hay
Jesus our Lord was that baby so small
Laid down to sleep in a humble stall
Then came the star and it stood overhead
Shedding its light 'round His little head
Dear baby Jesus, how tiny Thou art
I'll make a place for Thee in my heart
And when the stars in the heavens I see
Ever and always I think of Thee
song performed by by Simon & Garfunkel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Path Of Peace
Path Of Peace
By Paul Mc Cann
Peace is an easy path to tread
Peace is where our fears are mislaid
Peace is beginning to restore
Peace for each man, woman and child
Peace for the troubled streets gone wild
Peace is for the old and the young
Peace in the end will overcome
Peace builds trust into a lifestyle
Peace is a friendly open hand
Peace is a place to understand
Peace in the end will overcome
Peace is for the old and the young
Peace is a legacy to leave
Peace is when we don't have to grieve
Peace is and end to all the hate
Peace is why we negotiate
Peace for all the victims of war
poem by Paul McCann
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Lines.—I cannot sleep
I cannot sleep—my nights glide on
In one unbroken thought of thee;
And when the gloomy shades are gone,
I start the dawning light to see.
And as I watch the rising morn
Gain slowly o'er the yielding sky,
And mark another day new born,
That glows so brightly—yet must die—
I think how all the hopes we cherish
As transient, though as bright, will be;
And frailest of the hopes that perish
Were mine, that told of love and thee!
poem by Louisa Stuart Costello
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zPt #1 Birth of a New Day
All is still and silent now
The world is at peace with man
The terrors of day are quiet now
Peace reigns throughout the land
Thin shades of night come creeping
slowly over the earth
Now in awesome stillness Earth lies
Like a woman awaiting the moment of birth
Remembering now, in fleeting moments last
too soon forgotten lessons
of a day almost past
If it were possible she’d sigh
‘Perhaps ‘tis best this way’
Dark battles for one last moment
... then the birth of a new day!
Mary Havran
(Written when poet was ten years old)
A note to the reader: I have recently spent some time revisiting my earliest poetic efforts and upon
Reflection have decided to post some on this sit. Poems whose titles are prefixed with the designation “zPt” are poems written during my preteen years. I hope you find them interesting.
poem by Mary Havran
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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