How Oft Has The Banshee Cried.

By Thomas Moore

How oft has the Banshee cried, How oft has death untied Bright links that Glory wove, Sweet bonds entwined by Love! Peace to each manly soul that sleepeth; Rest to each faithful eye that weepeth; Long may the fair and brave Sigh o'er the hero's grave. We're fallen upon gloomy days![1] Star after star decays, Every bright name, that shed Light o'er the land, is fled. Dark falls the tear of him who mourneth Lost joy, or hope that ne'er returneth; But brightly flows the tear, Wept o'er a hero's bier. Quenched are our beacon lights-- Thou, of the Hundred Fights![2] Thou, on whose burning tongue Truth, peace, and freedom hung! Both mute,--but long as valor shineth, Or Mercy's soul at war repineth, So long shall Erin's pride Tell how they lived and died.