Rock of Cashel Tipperary

The Rock of Cashel

Sir Aubrey de Vere (1788–1846)

ROYAL and saintly Cashel! I would gaze Upon the wreck of thy departed powers, Not in the dewy light of matin hours, Nor the meridian pomp of summer’s blaze, But at the close of dim autumnal days,         5 When the sun’s parting glance, through slanting showers, Sheds o’er thy rock-throned battlements and towers Such awful gleams as brighten o’er Decay’s Prophetic cheek. At such a time, methinks, There breathes from thy lone courts and voiceless aisles         10 A melancholy moral; such as sinks On the lone traveller’s heart, amid the piles Of vast Persepolis on her mountain stand, Or Thebes half buried in the desert sand.

Comeragh Mts

Reflections of Lough Mohra under Knockanafrainn (which means Hill of the Mass) Ridge high in the Comeragh Mountains, in County Waterford.

Thanks to Joe Ormonde Waterford Mts.

William Butler Yeats (1865-1939)

 

Cathleen the Daughter of Hoolihan

The old brown thorn-trees break in two high over Cummen Strand,
Under a bitter black wind that blows from the left hand;
Our courage breaks like an old tree in a black wind and dies,
But we have hidden in our hearts the flame out of the eyes
Of Cathleen, the daughter of Houlihan.

The wind has bundled up the clouds high above Knocknarea,
And thrown the thunder on the stones for all that Maeve can say.
Angers that are like noisy clouds have set out hearts abeat;
But we have all bent low and low and kissed the quiet feet
Of Cathleen, the daughter of Houlihan.

The yellow pool has overflowed high up on Clooth-na-Bare,
For the wet winds are blowing out of the clinging air;
Like heavy flooded waters our bodies and our blood;
But purer than a tall candle before the Holy Rood
Is Cathleen, the daughter of Houlihan.





 

Early Morning in the Comeragh Mts

Flann O'Brien/ Myles na gCopaleen 1911-1966

"The Workman's Friend"

When things go wrong and will not come right,
Though you do the best you can,
When life looks black as the hour of night -
A pint of plain is your only man.

When money's tight and hard to get
And your horse has also ran,
When all you have is a heap of debt -
A pint of plain is your only man.

When health is bad and your heart feels strange,
And your face is pale and wan,
When doctors say you need a change,
A pint of plain is your only man.

When food is scarce and your larder bare
And no rashers grease your pan,
When hunger grows as your meals are rare -
A pint of plain is your only man.

In time of trouble and lousey strife,
You have still got a darlint plan
You still can turn to a brighter life -
A pint of plain is your only man.
by Flann O'Brien (Brian O'Nolan)


A pint of plain is your only man = A pint of beer will solve all your problems


Brian Nolan was born in Tyrone he was a great Irish Novelist & Poet. He described and immortalized the Irish love of life and "craic" in his writing.



 

Irish Poet John O'Donohue

Beannacht / Blessing

by John O'Donohue


Original Language English

On the day when
the weight deadens
on your shoulders
and you stumble,
may the clay dance
to balance you.
And when your eyes
freeze behind
the grey window
and the ghost of loss
gets in to you,
may a flock of colours,
indigo, red, green,
and azure blue
come to awaken in you
a meadow of delight.

When the canvas frays
in the currach of thought
and a stain of ocean
blackens beneath you,
may there come across the waters
a path of yellow moonlight
to bring you safely home.

May the nourishment of the earth be yours,
may the clarity of light be yours,
may the fluency of the ocean be yours,
may the protection of the ancestors be yours.
And so may a slow
wind work these words
of love around you,
an invisible cloak
to mind your life.

-- from Echoes of Memory, by John O'Donohue

 

Gold Coin Hoard found in Carrick-on-Suir Tipperary

It is believed a Catholic merchant must have been saving and storing the coins over several decades in around the time of Oliver Cromwell's campaign in Ireland and the penal laws.
The Carrick-on-Suir guineas - a collection of 81 coins dug up from the grounds of a derelict pub - have gone on show in the National Museum.
Five builders are now awaiting a reward for handing over a 17th century gold coin hoard to the state