WILLIAM ALLINGHAM.

ALLINGHAM, WILLIAM, an Irish poet, born in Ballyshannon, Ireland, in 1828; died 1889. He began to contribute to literary periodicals at an early age, and, removing to England, he was appointed to a position in the customs. For several years he was editor of "Fraser's Magazine," in which many of his poems first. appeared. Among these is "Lawrence Bloomfield in Ireland," which contains nearly five thousand lines, and sketches the characteristic features of contemporary Irish life. His first volume of poems was published in 1850. This was followed by "Day and Night Songs" (1854); "Fifty Modern Poems" (1865); and "Songs, Poems, and Ballads" (1877), consisting of revised versions of many pieces before published, with the addition of many new ones. His "Lawrence Bloomfield" was also republished in a separate volume, in 1864.

(From "Day and Night Songs.")

By the shore, a plot of ground
Clips a ruined chapel round,
Buttressed with a grassy mound;

Where Day and Night and Day go by

And bring no touch of human sound.

Washing of the lonely seas,
Shaking of the guardian trees,
Piping of the salted breeze;

Day and Night and Day go by

To the endless tune of these.

Or when, as winds and waters keep
A hush more dead than any sleep,
Still morns to stiller evenings creep,

And Day and Night and Day go by;

Here the silence is most deep.

The empty ruins, lapsed again
Into Nature's wide domain,
Sow themselves with seed and grain

As Day and Night and Day go by;
And hoard June's sun and April's rain.

Here fresh funereal tears were shed;
Now the graves are also dead;
And suckers from the ash-tree spread,

While Day and Night and Day go by;

And stars move calmly overhead.

Drooping, sinking, failing,
Nigh to earth,

Mounting, whirling, sailing,
Full of mirth;

Life there, welling, flowing,
Waving round;
Pictures coming, going,

Without sound.

Quick now, be this airy
Globe repelled!

Never can the fairy
Star be held.

Touched-it in a twinkle
Disappears!

Leaving but a sprinkle,
As of tears.

ST. MARGARET'S EVE.

(From "Ballads and Songs.")

I BUILT my castle upon the seaside,
The waves roll so gayly O,

Half on the land and half in the tide,
Love me true!

Within was silk, without was stone,
The waves roll so gayly O,

It lacks a queen, and that alone,
Love me true!

The gray old harper sang to me,
The waves roll so gayly O,

'Beware of the Damsel of the Sea!"
Love me true!

Saint Margaret's Eve it did befall,

The waves roll so gayly O,

The tide came creeping up the wall,

Love me true!

I opened my gate; who there should stand

The waves roll so gayly

But a fair lady, with a cup in her hand,

Love me true!

The cup was gold and full of wine,

The waves roll so gayly O,

"Drink," said the lady, "and I will be thine," Love me true!

"Enter my castle, lady fair,"

The waves roll so gayly O,

"You shall be queen of all that's there,"

Love me true!

A gray old harper sang to me,
The waves roll so gayly O,

"Beware of the Damsel of the Sea!"

Love me true!

In hall he harpeth many a year,
The waves roll so gayly O,

And we will sit his song to hear,
Love me true!

"I love thee deep, I love thee true," The waves roll so gayly O,

"But ah! I know not how to woo," Love me true!

Down dashed the cup, with a sudden shock,
The waves roll so gayly O,

The wine like blood ran over the rock,
Love me true!

She said no word, but shrieked aloud,
The waves roll so gayly O,

And vanished away from where she stood,
Love me true!

I locked and barred my castle door,
The waves roll so gayly O,
Three summer days I grievèd sore,
Love me true!

For myself a day, a night,

The waves roll so gayly O,

And two to moan that lady bright,
Love me true!