This website is using cookies

We use cookies to ensure that we give you the best experience on our website. If you continue without changing your settings, we'll assume that you are happy to receive all cookies on this website. 

Vere, Sir Aubrey De: Kilmallock

Portre of Vere, Sir Aubrey De

Kilmallock (English)

What ruined shapes of feudal pomp are there,        
In the cold moonlight fading silently?         
The castle, with its stern, baronial air,          
Still frowning, as accustomed to defy;        
The Gothic street, where Desmond’s chivalry
Dwelt in their pride; the cloistered house of prayer;
And gate-towers, mouldering where the stream moans by,
Now but the owl’s lone haunt and fox’s lair.          
Here once the pride of princely Desmond flushed, 
His courtiers knelt, his mailed squadrons rushed,
And saintly brethren poured the choral strain;         
Here Beauty bowed her head, and smiled and blushed; -
Ah! of these glories what doth now remain?           
The charnel of yon desecrated fane!

Uploaded byP. T.
Source of the quotation

Kilmallock (Hungarian)

Mily romos alakjai úri gőgnek
Fakulnak itt hideg holdvilágban?
Szigorú vár-arc, mely bárói időknek
Dacát az éjben mogorván vigyázza:
Gót utca, hol Desmondok hírének
Fénye fenn ragyogott: a zárda háza:
S kaputornyok amerre a patak nyögell,
S mindez most baglyok, rókák tanyája.
Pedig, itt ragyogott fel Desmond büszkesége,
Itt rontottak hadai dicsre, vérre,
És kegyes testvérek itt zengték énekük:
Itt meghajtja fejét, mosolyog, s pirul a Szépség -
Ah! Mindeme dicsőségből mi maradt meg?
Templom csontháza, a megszentségtelenített!

Uploaded byP. T.
Source of the quotation