514
AN GAODHAL.
CLOGA SHEANDUIN.
The Bells of Shandon — (Translation)
By Rev. THOMAS O'MALLY
Bídheann gean mo líonadh,
'Nuair bhídhim aig smuaineadh
Air chlogaibh Sheandhúin
Aig scapadh ceoil,
Mar cheolta Phárthais,
Os cionn m'óg áruis,
Nár fhág a chuimhne
Mo chroidhe go fóil;
Bídheann m' inntinn tóigthe
Lé smuaineadh m' óige
Air feadh mo shiúbhalta,
'S mé lán de ghnaoi;
Mar gheall nár chualas
Aon chlog a bhuaileas
Mar chloga Sheandúin
Air bhárr na Laoi.
Do shiúbhal mé 'n chruinne
'Gus chualas luinne
Na g-clog is binne
D' a bh-fuil faoi 'n spéir:
Agus luasgadh luaimneach
Na d-teangtha fhuaimneach;
Ach thug tú bárr air
A g-ceol go léir.
Le cuimhne 'r bhuille
Lán saor do chille,
Do facas dam-sa
Le bród ó chroidhe,
Go m-b' fhíor nár chualas
Aon chlog a bhuaileas
Mar chloga Sheandúin,
Air bhárr na Laoi.
Do chualas glóradh
Ó chlogaibh móra
Prímh-chill na Róimhe
Mar thoirreach theann,
Agus cloga gáirde
Aig luasgadh 'nn áirdhe,
Ann árd-chill Pháris,
O bhárr na m-beann;
Ach fós bud bhinne
Do cheolta grinne
'Ná scap Cill-Pheadair
Air an Tíber bhuidhe.
O! is fíor nár chualas
Aon chlog a bhuaileas
Mar chloga Sheandúin
Féach
Gaelic Journal
No
23.
page 345.
From
Tuam
News.
THE BELLS of SHANDON.
(By "FATHER PROUT..”)
Copied from the Tuam News,
With deep affection
And recollection
I often think of
Those Shandon Bells
Whose sound so wild would
In days of childhood,
Fling round my cradle
Their magic spells.
On this I ponder
Where’er I wander,
And thus grow fonder,
Sweet Cork of thee;
With thy Bells of Shandon
That sound so grand on
Thee pleasant waters
Of the River Lee.
l’ve heard bells chiming
Full many a clime in,
Tolling sublime in
Cathedral shrine;
While at a glibe rate
Brass tongues would vibrate
But all their music
Spoke nought like thine.
For memory dwelling
On each proud swelling
Of thy belfry, knelling
Its bold notes free,
Made the bells of Shandon
Sound far more grand on
The pleasant waters
Of the River Lee.
l’ve heard bells tolling
Old “Adrian's Mole” in
Their thunder rolling
From the Vatican,
And cymbals glorious
Swinging uproarious
In the gorgeous turrets
Of Notre Dame :
But thy sounds were sweeter
Than the dome of Peter
Flings o'er the Tiber,
Pealing solemnly,
Oh! the bells of Shandon,
Sound far more grand on
The pleasant waters
