“B., Emily E.” [Emily Elizabeth Beavan]. “The Song of the Irish Mourner.” The Examiner (Kilmore, Australia) February 1856. Rpt. Kilmore Free Press (31 August 1911) 1.
Here (a bit later than promised) is the second of the Emily Elizabeth Beavan’s poems sent to us by her great-great-granddaughter, Lyn Nunn.
The Song of the Irish Mourner
Light of the widows heart ! art thou then dead!
And is, then, thy spirit from earth ever fled?
And shall we, then, see thee and hear thee no more?
All radiant in beauty and life as before?
My own blue-eyed darling, oh ! why didst thou die?
E’er the tear-drop of sorrow had dimmed thy bright eye?
E’er thy cheek’s blooming hue felt one touch of decay,
Or thy long golden ringlets were mingled with grey?
Why, star of our pathway—why didst thou depart?
Why leave us to weep for thee pulse of the heart?
Oh ! darkened for ever, is life’s sunny hour,
When robbed of its brightest and lovliest flower.
Around thy low bier sacred incense is flinging,
And soft on the air, are the silver bells ringing;
For the peace of thy soul, is the holy mass said,
And on thy fair forehead, the blessed cross laid.
Soft, soft be thy slumbers, our Lady receive thee,
And shining in glory, for ever thy soul be;
To the climes of the blessed, my own gramachree,
May blessings attend thee, sweet Cushla Mabree!