Fairy Changeling and Other Poems — Banagher Rhue
BANAGHER RHUE
Banagher Rhue of Donegal, (Holy Mary, how slow the dawn!
) This is the hour of your loss or gain: _Is go d-tigheadh do_, _mhuirnin slan_!
{21} Banagher Rhue, but the hour was ill (O Mary Mother, how high the price!
) When you swore you'd game with Death himself;
Aye, and win with the devil's dice.
Banagher Rhue, you must play with Death, (Mary, watch with him till the light!
) Through the dark hours, for the words you said, All this strange and noisy night.
Banagher Rhue, you are pale and cold;
(How the demons laugh through the air!
) The anguish beads on your frowning brow;
Mary set on your lips a prayer!
Banagher Rhue, you have won the toss: (Mother, pray for his soul's release!
) Shuffle and deal ere the black cock crows, That your spirit may find its peace.
Banagher Rhue, you have played a king;
(How strange a light on your fingers fall!
) A voice, "I was cold, and he sheltered me .
.
.
" The trick is gained, but your chance is small.
Banagher Rhue, now an ace is yours;
(Mother Mary, the night is long!
) "I was a sin that he hurried aside .
.
."
O for the dawn and the blackbird's song!
Banagher Rhue, now a ten of suit;
(Mother Mary, what hot winds blow!
) "Nine little lives hath he saved in his path .
.
.
" And the black cock that does not crow.
Banagher Rhue, you have played a knave;
(O what strange gates on their hinges groan!
) "I was a friend who had wrought him ill;
When I had fallen he cast no stone .
.
.
" Banagher Rhue, now a queen has won!
(The black cock crows with the flash of dawn.
) And she is the woman who prays for you: "_Is go d-tigheadh do_, _mhuirnin slan_!"