Rash Son, return! Yon shores that dazzle With glowing pleasance, glittering plain, And crystal keep is not Hy-Brazil, But some false phantom of the main. And yon bright band thy vision meeting, Their warbled welcome hither fleeting_ Oh, trust not to their siren greeting, Oh, wave not, wave not back again. But veil thine eyes from their entreating And list not their enchanting strain. O Sovran Sire, no cruel vision Compels my curragh o'er the deep! Yea, have we seen the land Elysian, Hy-Brazil out of Ocean leap. None ever knew it smiling nearer, Or hearkened yet, a blessed hearer, Its Virgin Chorus chanting clearer O'er lulled Atlantic's cradled sleep. That strain again! What psalm sincerer From Angel harps to Earth could sweep. With hand to brow the monarch hoary Stood rapt upon the Western ray, Till in a gulf of golden glory The bright bark melted o'er the bay. Then cracked the glass of calm asunder! Then roared the cave the sea cliff under! Then sprang to shore, with hooves of thunder, Mannanan's steeds of ghostly grey. Yet ere the shock, a cry of wonder, "Hy-Brazil's here!" rose far away.
- by Alfred Perceval Graves (1846 - 1931) [author's text not yet checked against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)
- by Charles Villiers Stanford, Sir (1852 - 1924), "The king's cave", op. 76 no. 20, published 1901 [voice and piano], from Songs of Erin, no. 20, London, Boosey [text verified 1 time]
Researcher for this text: Mike Pearson
This text was added to the website: 2016-09-13
Line count: 30
Word count: 191