There stands a tower by the Atlantic side 
A grey old tower, by storm and sea-waves beat 
Perch'd on a cliff, beneath it yawneth wide 
A lofty cavern of yore a fit retreat 
For pirates galleys; altho', now, you'll meet 
Nought but the seal and wild gull; from that cave 
A hundred steps do upwards lead your feet 
Unto a lonely chamber! -- Bold and brave 
Is he who climbs that stair, all slippery from the wave. 

I sat there on an evening. In the west, 
Amid the waters, sank the setting sun:
While clouds, like parting friends, about him prest, 
Clad in their fleecy garbs, of gold and dun; 
And silence was around me -- save the hum, 
Of the lone and wild bee, or the curlew's cry. 
An lo! Upon me did a vision come, 
Of her who built that tower, in days gone by; 
And in that dream, behold! I saw a building high. 

A stately hull -- lofty and carved the roof --
Was deck'd with silken banners fair to see. 
The hanging velvet, from Genou's woof, 
And wrought with Tudor roses curiously; 
At its far end did stand a canopy, 
Shading a chair of state, on which was seen 
A ladye fair, with look of majesty, 
Amid a throng, 'yclad in costly sheen --
Nobles and gallant Knights proclaim her England's Queen. 

The sage Elizabeth; and by her side 
Were group'd her counsellors, with calm, grave air, 
Burleigh and Walsingham, with others, tried 
In wisdom and in war, and sparkling there, 
Like Summer butterflies, were damsels fair, 
Beautiful and young: behind a trusty band 
Of stalwart yeomanry, with watchful care, 
The portal guard, while nigher to it stand 
Usher and page, ready to ape with willing hand. 

A Tucket sounds, and lo! There enters now 
A strange group, in saffron tunics drest: 
A female at their head, whose step and brow 
Herald her rank, and calm and self possest, 
Onward she came, alone through England's best, 
With careless look, and bearing free yet high, 
Tho' gentle dames their titterings scarce represt, 
Noting her garments as she passed them by; 
None laughed again who met that stern and flashing eye. 

Restless and dark, its sharp and rapid look 
Showed a fierce spirit, prone a wrong to feel, 
And quicker to revenge it. As a book, 
That sun-burnt brow did fearless thoughts reveal; 
And in her girdle was a skeyne of steel; 
Her crimson mantle, a gold brooch did bind; 
Her flowing garments reached unto her heel; 
Her hair-part fell in tresses unconfined, 
And part, a silver bodkin did fasten up behind. 

'Twas not her garb that caught the gazer's eye --
Tho' strange, 'twas rich, and after its fashion, good --
But the wild grandeur of her mien-erect and high. 
Before the English Queen she dauntless stood, 
And none her bearing there could scorn as rude; 
She seemed as one well used to power -- one that hath 
Dominion over men of savage mood, 
And dared the tempest in its midnight wrath, 
Thro' opposing billows cleft her fearless path. 

And courteous greeting Elizabeth them pays, 
And bids her welcome to her English land 
And humble hall. Each looked with curious gaze 
Upon the other's face, and felt they stand 
Before a spirit like their own. Her hand 
The stranger raised -- and pointing where all pale, 
Thro' the high casement, cam the sunlight bland, 
Gliding the scene and group with rich avail; 
Thus, to the English Sov'reigh, spoke proud "Grania Wale". 

Queen of the Saxons! From the distant west 
I come; from Achill steep and Island Clare, 
Where the wild eagle builds 'mid clouds, his nest, 
And Ocean flings its billows in the air. 
I come to greet you in your dwelling fair. 
Led by your fame -- lone sitting in my cave. 
In sea -- beat Doona -- it hath reached me there, 
Theme of the minstrel's song; and then I gave 
My galley to the wind, and crossed the dark green wave. 

"Health to thee, ladye! --Let your answer be 
Health to our Irish land; for evil men 
Do vex her sorely, and have buklar'd thee 
Abettor of their deeds; lyeing train, 
That cheat their mistress for the love of gain, 
And wrong their trust-aught else I little reck, 
Alike to me, the mountain and the glen --
The castle's rampart or the galley's deck; 
But thou my country spare -- your foot is on her neck. 

Thus brief and bold, outspake that ladye stern, 
And all stood silent thro' that crowded hall; 
While proudly glared each proud and manly kern 
Attendant on their mistress. Then courtly all 
Elizabeth replies, and soothing fall 
Her words, and pleasing to the Irish ear --
Fair promises -- that she would soon recall 
Her evil servants. Were these words sincere? 
That promise kept? Let Erin answer with a tear!