Just between the day and dark, O'er the green of the glimmering Park, Lost in heaven one lonely lark Soared and poured his passion pure; Till the long, sweet shivering strain Took, methought, this meaning plain, As it showered like silver rain Softly into the Cool-kellure. How we prayed and prayed of old, Blackbird, with the crown of gold, That you'd cross the waters cold Erin's sorrows at last to cure. But you sought and sought in vain Succour out of France and Spain, None would help you here to reign, Blackbird, over the Cool-kellure. Yet the Blackbird far above Now I rank the Royal Dove Who, at last for Erin's love Wreathing with shamrock her bosom pure, O'er the dreadful flood's decrease Flutters with its spray of peace To her bow'r of Queenly ease Nesting under the Cool-kellure.
- 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 leafy Cool-kellure", op. 76 no. 50, published 1901 [voice and piano], from Songs of Erin, no. 50, London, Boosey [text verified 1 time]
Researcher for this text: Mike Pearson
This text was added to the website: 2016-09-13
Line count: 24
Word count: 139