"Where, oh Kincora, is Brian the Great?
And where is the beauty that once was thine?
Oh where are the princes and nobles that sate
At the feasts in thy halls and drank the red wine,
Where, oh Kincora?
"Where, oh Kincora, are thy valorous lords,
Oh whither, thou Hospitable, are they gone?
Oh where the Dalcassians of cleaving swords,
And where are the heroes that Brian led on,
Where, oh Kincora?
"And where is Morough, descendant of kings,
Defeater of hundreds, the daringly brave,
Who set but light store on jewels and rings,
Who swam down the torrent and laughed at the wave,
Where, oh Kincora?
"And where is Donagh, King Brian's brave son,
And where is Conaing, the beautiful chief,
And Cian and Corc? alas, they are gone!
They have left me this night all alone in my grief,
Alone, oh Kincora!
"And where are the chiefs with whom Brian went forth,
The ne'er vanquished sons of Evin the Brave,
The great King of Eogh'nacht,[12] renowned for his worth,
And Baskin's great host from the western wave,
Where, oh Kincora?
"And where is Duvlann of the swift-footed steeds,
And where is Cian who was son of Molloy,
And where is King Lonergan, the fame of whose deeds
In the red battle-field, no time can destroy?
Where, oh Kincora?
"And where is the youth of majestic height,
The faith-keeping prince of the Scotts?[13] even he,
As wide as his fame was, as great as his might,
Was tributary, oh Kincora, to thee,
To thee, oh Kincora!
"They are gone, those heroes of royal birth,
Who plundered no churches and broke no trust
'Tis weary for me to be living on earth
When they, oh Kincora, lie low in the dust.
Low, oh Kincora!
"Oh never again will princes appear
To rival Dalcassians of cleaving swords!
I can ne'er dream of meeting afar or near,
In the east or the west, such heroes and lords,
Never, Kincora!
"Oh dear are the images mem'ry calls up
Of Brian Boru,[14] how he never would miss
To give me at banquet the first bright cup,--
Oh, why did he heap on me honour like this,
Why, oh Kincora?
"I am MacLiag, and my home's on the lake;
And oft to that palace whose beauty has fled
Came Brian to ask me,--I went for his sake;--
Oh my grief! that I live when Brian is dead!
Dead, oh Kincora!"
So far the demolished palace of Brian, and the writer, like Brian himself,
"returns to Kincora no more."
No lover of the beauties of nature should be on this part of the Shannon
and not visit the great rapids of Doonass. They are only about ten miles
below Killaloe. If seen when the river is full they are the grandest thing
of their kind in the British Isles. The Shannon here looks like a
continental river, containing ordinarily a volume of water greater than
any river in France. The country round Doonass, though flat, is
superlatively beautiful. The limpid, rushing river flows on among meadows
and pastures of the brightest verdure, adorned with stately trees, and
bright in summer-time with innumerable flowers. There is nothing terrible
or awe-inspiring about Doonass. It is quiet and peaceful in the true sense
of the word. Even the great rushing river, as it glides down the gentle
slope of the rapids, makes no noise except a deep, musical murmur that
would lull to sleep rather than startle. The rapids of Doonass form a
scene so incomparably lovely, and so unlike anything to be seen in Great
Britain, or to be seen in any other part of Ireland, that it is a wonder
they are not better known. They can be reached best from Limerick, being
not over three miles from that city. One of the most curious things about
those grand and beautiful rapids, is the almost total ignorance which
exists about them, not only in Great Britain, but in Ireland itself. If
they were situated on a wild, hard-to-be-got-at part of the Shannon, the
general ignorance that exists about them among seekers after the
beautiful, would not excite so much wonder. A scene of such great beauty
and uniqueness, so near a fine and interesting city like Limerick, to be
so little known to those who go so far in search of the beautiful, shows
how much the world at large, and even the Irish themselves, have to learn
about Ireland. If the rapids of Doonass were in England, or even in the
United States, there would be not only one, but perhaps three or four
hotels on their banks,--hotels which would be full of guests every summer.
Let us hope that the beauties of this charming place will be soon better
known.