Дублінці
Ivy Day in the Committee Room
Hynesdidnotseemtorememberatoncethepiecetowhichtheywerealluding,but,afterreflectingawhile,hesaid:
“O,thatthingisit....Sure,that’soldnow.”
“Outwithit,man!”saidMr.O’Connor.
“‘Sh,‘sh,”saidMr.Henchy.“Now,Joe!”
Mr.Hyneshesitatedalittlelonger.Thenamidthesilencehetookoffhishat,laiditonthetableandstoodup.Heseemedtoberehearsingthepieceinhismind.Afteraratherlongpauseheannounced:
THEDEATHOFPARNELL
6thOctober,1891
Heclearedhisthroatonceortwiceandthenbegantorecite:
Heisdead.OurUncrownedKingisdead.
O,Erin,mournwithgriefandwoe
Forheliesdeadwhomthefellgang
Ofmodernhypocriteslaidlow.
Heliesslainbythecowardhounds
Heraisedtogloryfromthemire;
AndErin’shopesandErin’sdreams
Perishuponhermonarch’spyre.
Inpalace,cabinorincot
TheIrishheartwhere’eritbe
Isbowedwithwoe—forheisgone
Whowouldhavewroughtherdestiny.
HewouldhavehadhisErinfamed,
Thegreenflaggloriouslyunfurled,
Herstatesmen,bardsandwarriorsraised
BeforethenationsoftheWorld.