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cahal mór of the wine red hand - horatio parker lyrics

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i walked entranced
through a land of morn:
the sun, with wondrous excess of light
shone down and glanced
over seas of corn
and l-strous gardens aleft and right
even in the clime
of resplendent spain
beams no such sun upon such a land;
but it was the time
’t was in the reign
of cahal mór of the wine-red hand

anon stood nigh
by my side a man
of princely aspect and port sublime
him queried i—
“oh, my lord and khan
what clime is this, and what golden time?”
when he—“the clime
is a clime to praise
the clime is erin’s, the green and bland;
and it is the time
these be the days
of cahal mór of the wine-red hand.”

then saw i thrones
and circling fires
and a dome rose near me, as by a spell
whence flowed the tones
of silver lyres
and many voices in wreathèd swell;
and their thrilling chime
fell on mine ears
as the heavenly hymn of an angel-band—
“it is now the time
these be the years
of cahal mór of the wine-red hand.”

i sought the hall
and behold!—a change
from light to darkness, from joy to woe!
kings, n-bles, all
looked aghast and strange;
the minstrel group sate in dumbest show!
had some great crime
wrought this dread amaze
this terror? none seemed to understand
’twas then the time
we were in the days
of cahal mór of the wine-red hand

i again walked forth;
but lo! the sky
showed flecked with blood, and an alien sun
glared from the north
and there stood on high
amid his shorn beams, a skeleton!
it was by the stream
of the castled maine
one autumn eve, in the teuton’s land
that i dreamed this dream
of the time and reign
of cahal mór of the wine-red hand

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