SHIELA NÍ GARA
by Ethna Carbery (pen name of Anna MacManus)
(note: Shiela Ni Gara is the Celtic Goddess of
War.)
SHIELA NÍ GARA, it is lonesome
where you bide,
With the plover circling over and
the sagans spreading wide,
With an empty sea before you, and
behind a wailing world,
Where the sword lieth rusty and the
Banner Blue is furled.
Is it a sail ye wait, Shiela? "Yea,
from the westering sun."
Shall it bring joy or sorrow? "Oh,
joy sadly won."
Shall it bring peace or conflict?
"The pibroch in the glen,
And the flash and crash of battle
where my banner shines again."
Green spears of Hope rise round you
like grass-blades after drouth,
And there blows a red wind from the
East, a white wind from the South,
A brown wind from the West, a grádh,
a brown wind from the West
But the black, black wind from Northern
hills, how can you love it best?
Said Shiela ní Gara, "'Tis
a kind wind and a true,
For it rustled soft through Aileach's
halls and stirred the hair of Hugh;
Then blow, wind! and snow, wind!
What matters storm to me,
Now I know the fairy sleep must break
and let the sleepers free."
But, Shiela ní Gara, why rouse
the stony dead,
Since at your call a living host
will circle you instead?
Long is our hunger for your voice,
the hour is drawing near
Oh, Dark Rose of our Passioncall,
and our hearts shall hear!
