THE BALLADE OF TRUTHFUL
CHARLES
Charles Stuart, the crownless king whose hand
Sways Erin's sceptre,—so they sing,
The bards of holy Liarland—
Can give his tongue such scope and swing,
So smooth of speech, so sure of sting,
That all who feel its touch must dread it:
But now we hear it witnessing—
"I meant to cheat you when I said it."
Sways Erin's sceptre,—so they sing,
The bards of holy Liarland—
Can give his tongue such scope and swing,
So smooth of speech, so sure of sting,
That all who feel its touch must dread it:
But now we hear it witnessing—
"I meant to cheat you when I said it."
Base England felt his vocal brand
Burn on her blushless brow, and cling
Like fire: though grave and calm and bland,
His voice could touch so deep a string,
That souls more pure than flowers in spring
Were moved to follow where he led; it
Rang out so true: we hear it ring—
"I meant to cheat you when I said it."
Burn on her blushless brow, and cling
Like fire: though grave and calm and bland,
His voice could touch so deep a string,
That souls more pure than flowers in spring
Were moved to follow where he led; it
Rang out so true: we hear it ring—
"I meant to cheat you when I said it."
Convinced, appalled, confused, unmanned,
We see, splashed black with mud they fling,
Parnells and Pigotts lie or stand;
We see their faith, how pure a thing,
We see, splashed black with mud they fling,
Parnells and Pigotts lie or stand;
We see their faith, how pure a thing,
151
