Denis Florence MacCarthy
Denis Florence MacCarthy (26 May 1817 – 9 April 1882) was an Irish poet, translator, and biographer, from Dublin.
Quotes
[edit]- The pillar towers of Ireland, how wondrously they stand
By the lakes and rushing rivers through the valleys of our land;
In mystic file, through the isle, they lift their heads sublime,
These gray old pillar temples, these conquerors of time!- From "The Pillar Towers of Ireland" in Poems (Dublin, 1882); quoted by Sean McMahon in A Book of Irish Quotations (1984), p. 91
- Youth’s bright palace
Is overthrown,
With its diamond sceptre
And golden throne;
As a time-worn stone
Its turrets are humbled—
All hath crumbled
But grief alone!Whither, O whither
Have fled away
The dreams and hopes
Of my early day?
Ruin’d and grey
Are the towers I builded;
And the beams that gilded—
Ah, where are they?Once this world
Was fresh and bright,
With its golden noon
And its starry night:
Glad and light,
By mountain and river,
Have I bless’d the Giver
With hush’d delight.Youth’s illusions
One by one
Have pass’d like clouds
That the sun look’d on.
While morning shone,
How purple their fringes!
How ashy their tinges
When that was gone!As fire-flies fade
When the nights are damp—
As meteors are quench’d
In a stagnant swamp—
Thus Charlemagne’s camp
Where the Paladins rally,
And the Diamond valley,
And the Wonderful Lamp,And all the wonders
Of Ganges and Nile,
And Haroun’s rambles,
And Crusoe’s isle,
And Princes who smile
On the Genii’s daughters
’Neath the Orient waters
Full many a mile,And all that the pen
Of Fancy can write
Must vanish in manhood’s
Misty light;
Squire and Knight,
And damosel’s glances,
Sunny romances,
So pure and bright!These have vanish’d,
And what remains?
Life’s budding garlands
Have turn’d to chains—
Its beams and rains
Feed but docks and thistles,
And sorrow whistles
O’er desert plains.- "Lament" in Ballads, Poems, and Lyrics (1850), p. 126
