[1] The particulars of the tradition respecting Donohue and his White
Horse, may be found in Mr. Weld's Account of Killarney, or more fully
detailed in Derrick's Letters. For many years after his death, the spirit
of this hero is supposed to have been seen on the morning of Mayday,
gliding over the lake on his favorite white horse to the sound of sweet
unearthly music, and preceded by groups of youths and maidens, who flung
wreaths of delicate spring flowers in his path.
[2] The boatmen at Killarney call those waves which come on a windy day,
crested with foam, "O'Donohue's White Horses."
ECHO.
How sweet the answer Echo makes
To music at night,
When, roused by lute or horn, she wakes,
And far away, o'er lawns and lakes,
Goes answering light.
Yet Love hath echoes truer far,
And far more sweet,
Than e'er beneath the moonlight star,
Of horn or lute, or soft guitar,
The songs repeat.
'Tis when the sigh, in youth sincere,
And only then,--
The sigh that's breath'd for one to hear,
Is by that one, that only dear,
Breathed back again!
OH BANQUET NOT.
Oh banquet not in those shining bowers,
Where Youth resorts, but come to me:
For mine's a garden of faded flowers,
More fit for sorrow, for age, and thee.
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