There's no flower that e'er bloomed can my rose excel, Had I power, oh! my lov'd one! but to plead thy right, The mountains, high and misty, thro' the moors must go, The translation given above would very nearly sing to the ancient melody entitled the Roisin Dubh, in Bunting's "Ancient Music of Ireland;" but there is a quaint wildness in the air which makes adaption difficult to the poet. In fact, to suit the measure of the music perfectly, unequal and very unusual metre should be adopted. There is a second setting of the air, in Bunting, entitled Roisin bheag dubh (little black rose-bud), which perfectly agrees in rhythm with the stanzas above. DARK ROSALEEN. Translated from the Irish, by JAMES CLARENCE MANGAN. Here is another version of this celebrated ballad; sufficient points of resemblance will be found in them to show they were taken from the same original, but there is much more richness in Mr. Mangan's translation, and the reverberation of certain words smacks of orientalism, and hence is more Irish: this is particularly apparent in the second verse. In the first stanza the allusion to "Roman wine" and "Spanish ale" are sufficiently intelligible without a note. Over hills, and through dales, The Erne,....at its highest flood, For there was lightning in my blood, My own Rosaleen! Oh! there was lightning in my blood, All day long, in unrest, To and fro, do I move, The very soul within my breast The heart....in my bosom faints My life of life, my saint of saints, My own Rosaleen! To hear your sweet and sad complaints, Wo and pain, pain and wo, Are my lot, night and noon, To see your bright face clouded so, But yet. ..... will I rear your throne "Tis you shall reign, shall reign alone, My own Rosaleen! 'Tis you shall have the golden throne, 'Tis you shall reign, and reign alone, My dark Rosaleen! Over dews, over sands, Will I fly, for your weal: Your holy delicate white hands Shall girdle me with steel. At home......in your emerald bowers, From morning's dawn till e'en, You'll pray for me, my flower of flowers. My dark Rosaleen! My fond Rosaleen! You'll think of me through daylight's hours, My virgin flower, my flower of flowers, My dark Rosaleen! The following epitomized narrative of some of the most remarkable passages in the life of our romantic Sea Queen is taken from Owen Connellan's translation of that most interesting work, the "Annals of the Four Masters." The note is a closely-condensed compilation from articles in Authologia Hibernica (for the year 1793), Lodge's Peerage of Ireland, and other authorities. I had already made extracts from the Authologia, when I chanced to find Mr. Connellan's note, and found it so much preferable that I did not hesitate to adopt it. "Grace O'Malley, called in Irish Grainne Maol, commonly pronounced Granu Wail, is celebrated in Irish history. She was first married to O'Flaherty, Chief of West Connaught; and secondly to Sir Richard Burke, by whom she had a son Theobald, who was a commander of note on the side of the English, in Connaught, in the reign of Elizabeth; he was called Sir Theobald Burke, and was created Viscount of Mayo by Charles I. Her father, Owen O'Malley, was a noted chief, and had a small fleet with which he made many expeditions, partly for commercial purposes, but chiefly in piracy. Grace, in her youth, frequently ac companied her father on these expeditions, and after his death, her brother being a minor, she took upon herself the command of her galleys, and made with her crews many bold expeditions; her chief rendezvous was at Clare Island, off the coast of Mayo, where she kept her large vessels moored, and had a fortress; but she had her small craft at Carrigahooly* Castle, (in the bay of Newport, county Mayo), which was her chief residence and stronghold; and there was a hole to be seen in the ruined walls through which a cable was run from one of her ships, for the purpose of communicating an alarm to her apartment on any sudden danger. It is said that her piracies became so frequent that she was proclaimed, and £500 offered as a reward for her apprehension, and troops were sent from Galway to take the Castle of Carrigahooly; but after a siege of more than a fortnight, they were forced to retire, being defeated by the valour of Grace and her men. These exploits were performed by her before and after her marriage with O'Flaherty, but after his death, and her marriage with Sir Richard Burke, she became reconciled to the Government, and, with her followers, assisted the English forces in Connaught, and for her services it is said that Queen Elizabeth wrote her a letter of invitation to the Court, in consequence of which Grace, with some of her galleys, set sail for London, about the year 1575, and she was received at Court with great honour by the Queen, who offered to create her a Countess, which honour Grace declined, answering, that both of them being Princesses, they were equal in rank, and they could therefore confer no honours on each other; but Grace said that her Majesty might confer any title she pleased on her young son, a child which was born on ship-board during her voyage to England; and it is said that the Queen knighted the child, who was called by the Irish Tioboid-na-Lung, signifying Theobald of the Ships, from the circumstance of his being born on ship-board; and this Sir Theobald Burke was created Viscount of Mayo by Charles I. "The well-known circumstance of her carrying off the young heir of St. Laurence from Howth, as a punishment for his father's want of hospitality in having the Castle gates closed during dinner-time, occurred on her return from England. "Grace endowed a monastery on Clare Island, off the coast of Mayo, where she was buried, and it is said some remains of her monument are still to be seen there. "Grace O'Malley has been long famous as an Irish heroine in the traditions of the people, and her name is still remembered in song; in various poetical compositions, both in English and Irish, her name is celebrated; and in these songs Ireland is generally personified under the designation of Granu Wail. One of these, which was very popular, was composed by the celebrated Jacobite Munster Bard, Shane Clarach Mac Donnell." MILD as the rose its sweets will breathe, Near Albion's throne stood Grana fair.† * Carrigahooly-in Irish, Carrick-a-Uile-signifying, The rock in the Elbow. The Queen, surrounded by her ladies, received her in great state. Grana was introduced in the dress of her country: a long uncouth mantle covered her head and body; her hair was gathered on her crown, and fastened with a bodkin; her breast was bare, and she had a yellow bodice and petticoat. The Court stared with surprise at so strange a figure."— Authologia Hibernica. The vestal Queen in wonder view'd "Some boon," she cried, "thou lady brave, "Nay, sister-Queen," the fair replied, "But grant to him-whose infant sleep The Queen on Grana gazed and smil'd, "Grana Uile" was one of the many names typical of Ireland, and continued to be so to a late period. The mere playing of the tune, which is an old pipe march, had always a political significance. |