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The Lisburn Exiles Forum is dedicated to the memory of James Goddard Collins (The Boss) who single-handedly built LISBURN.COM (with a lot of help from many contributors) from 1996 to 29th November 2012. This website was his passion and helping people with a common interest in the City of Lisburn around the world is his lasting legacy.
Anyone remember this?
BREATHES there the man with soul so dead,
Who never to himself hath said,
'This is my own, my native land!'
Whose heart hath ne'er within him burn'd
As home his footsteps he hath turn'd 5
From wandering on a foreign strand?
If such there breathe, go, mark him well;
For him no Minstrel raptures swell;
High though his titles, proud his name,
Boundless his wealth as wish can claim; 10
Despite those titles, power, and pelf,
The wretch, concentred all in self,
Living, shall forfeit fair renown,
And, doubly dying, shall go down
To the vile dust from whence he sprung, 15
Unwept, unhonour'd, and unsung.
No Donald I don't remember it at all. What is the name of the poem, is there more to it? I love it. It makes me think of one who cares for nothing but building his own kingdom, but for what good? He shall leave this world with only his character going with him to stand before his maker. Or as Sir Walter Scott writes, "to double die". A wonderful expression, flesh death, but also spiritual death.
I ask myself why. Was it poverty of youth that blinded him and in the end left him in personal wealth but poverty of spirit?
Could it have been wanderlust which blinded him. He thought nothing of his beginnings and native land, never knowing the passion of homecoming which so many of us share and couldn't forget, the old times, the old folk, old ways. I think of the scripture in Matthew 16 "What good will it be for a man if he gains the whole world yet forfeits his soul?"
With all the frivolities of Christmas, that made me think deep Donald!
" My Native Land ", from " The Lay of the Last Minstrel " written by Sir Walter Scott 1771 - 1832, my favourite poem ,
another one I love is,
How Sleep The Brave. by William Collins
How sleep the brave, who sink to rest
By all their country's wishes blessed!
When Spring, with dewy fingers cold,
Returns to deck their hallowed mould,
She there shall dress a sweeter sod
than Fancy's feet have ever trod.
By fairy hands their knell is rung;
by forms unseen their dirge is sung;
There Honor comes, a pilgrim gray,
To bless the turf that wraps their clay;
And Freedom shall awhile repair,
To dwell a weeping hermit there!
Let,s not get too sentimemtal
Have a nice weekend
“It must be true,”
Said people like you.
While accusers lied.
Then into a rage
They finally flew;
And Jesus was crucified.
Not the original one but nevertheless moving
from Kate Bush
My Lagan Love
Come close to me
When rainy nights are soft with tears
And Autumn leaves are falling
I hear his voice on tumbling waves
And no one there to hold me
At evening's fall he watched me walk
His heart was mine
But my love was young and felt
The world was not cruel but kind
Where Lagan's light fell on the hour
I saw him far below me
Just as the morning calmed the storm
With no one there to hold him
My loves have come, my love's gone
And nothing left to warm me
Save for a voice on the travelling wind
And the glimpse of a face at morning
Curiously, this led me to John MacCormack, and I have faint memories of seeing/hearing him in what must have been a very early ‘talkie’ called Wings of the Morning.
Count John MacCormack did appear and sing at a ball in that 1937 movie, what a memory.
For more information on the rest of the cast go to http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0029785/
May I take this opportunity to wish all the forum subscribers, a Merry Christmas and Healthy, Happy New Year.
I saw that film when I was nine or ten. Around that time I also remember a young singer/film star called Bobby Breen, who, I have just learned through the ‘net’, was Canadian. I also recall shrieking like a banshee whilst trying to imitate him singing Macushla.
Thanks, 40cts, I had no memory of the plot or cast till I looked on that web page. I was delighted to see the name of Steve Donoghue, one of the greatest jockeys of all time. I never saw him in action, but I believe I saw Prince Monolulu on Brighton racecourse in the early sixties. The reason I’m not certain is that I have seen him several times on film, and may be confused.