9316 Geoffrey Barron of Clonmel Dies the traitor's death. Hark the toll of the death-bell! Pray! the chimes saith. Freton has set his ring And the ink is dry On the warrant that shall bring Geoffrey Barron to die. Many an one in Limerick Street, With a pale face Passes, and with hurrying feet By the market-place. There the scaffold blurs the sun: And when noon is high That most shameful hill upon, Geoffrey Barron shall die. O were Owen Roe but here That's stark in his grave, He should smite with sword and spear Every crop-ear knave, Ululu! but Owen's dead! And the hour is nigh When shall fall the comeliest head, For Geoffrey Barron must die. He stood up a six-foot man, Strong as an oak: Down his neck gold love-locks ran Strength and manhood in his smile, On a grass-green cloak. Laughter in his eye: Noble, without wile or guile, Geoffrey Barron must die. When they led him to the place Where the General stood 'Mid his crop-ears, lank of face, Godly men of blood; Prayed the dying man, "A boon! Mine own house is nigh, Let me rest there till the noon, When Geoffrey Barron shall die." Clocks had struck three-quarters chime, When he went in: All the bells rang out noon-time With great shock and din, When the old house-door flew wide, And in noon-day's eye, All in splendour like a bride, Came Geoffrey Barron to die. Taffeta as white as milk Made all his suit: Threads of silver in the silk Trailed like moonlight through't. Silver cap and white feather; Stepping proud and high, In his shoon of white leather, Came Geoffrey Barron to die. Then the Roundhead General said, Fingering his sword: "Art thou coming to be wed Like a heathen lord? Go! thy bride the scaffold is: Give her sigh for sigh, Breath for breath and kiss for kiss! For Geoffrey Barron must die." But he laughed out as he ran Up the black steps: "Never happier bridegroom man With his wife's lips! If for some mortal woman's sake In silks should go I, I shall for Heaven the same pains take: Now Geoffrey Barron must die." "Sweet death," he laughed, "that I have wooed On many a stiff field, Sweet are the eyes below the hood To my glad eyes revealed! Sweet death that leads us home to Christ, Whose leal man am I! And sweet the altar and the priest, Now Geoffrey Barron must die!" He kissed the Cross on his breast, Then smiled with rapt eyes As they beheld the vision blest Of Christ in Paradise. O many die for God and the green! But never an one saw I Go out with such a bridegroom mien As Geoffrey Barron to die! ——K. Tynan (Hinkson).
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