EPIGRAMS BY CAROLAN
George Borrow translation
On Friars
Would’st thou on good terms with friars live, Ever be humble and admiring; All they ask of thee freely give, And in return be nought requiring.
On a surly Butler, who had refused him admission to the cellar
O Dermod Flynn it grieveth me Thou keepest not Hell’s portal; As long as thou should’st porter be, Thou would’st admit no mortal.
Lines
How deadly the blow I received When of thee, O my darling, bereaved! No more up the hill I shall bound, No strength in my poor foot is found; No joy o’er my visage shall break ’Till from out the cold earth I awake. Of the corn like the very top grain, Or the pine ’mongst the shrubs of the plain, Or the moon ’mongst the starlets above, Went thou amongst women, my love!
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London: Printed for Thomas J. Wise, Hampstead, N.W. Edition limited to Thirty Copies