English poem
To Dr. Douglas Hyde
by Lionel Johnson (1867–1902)
Never forgetful silence fall on thee, Nor younger voices overtake thee, Nor echoes from thine ancient hills forsake thee; Old music heard by Mona of the sea: And where with moving melodies there break thee Pastoral Conway, venerable Dee.
Like music lives, nor may that music die, Still in the far, fair Gaelic places: The speech, so wistful with its kindly graces, Holy Croagh Patrick knows, and holy Hy: The speech, that wakes the soul in withered faces, And wakes remembrance of great things gone by.
Like music by the desolate Land's End Mournful forgetfulness hath broken: No more words kindred to the winds are spoken, Where upon iron cliffs whole seas expend That strength, whereof the unalterable token Remains wild music, even to the world's end.