The Book of Irish Ballads

HY BRASAIL--THE ISLE OF THE BLEST.

BY GERALD GRIFFIN.

- Proofing in Progress -

["The people of Arran fancy that at certain periods they see Hy-Brasail elevated far to the west in their watery horizon.  This had been the universal tradition of the ancient Irish, who supposed that a great part of Ireland had been swallowed by the sea, and that the sunken part often rose, and was seen hanging in the horizon!  Such was the popular notion.  The Hy-Brasail of the Irish is evidently a part of the Atlantis of Plato, [1] who, in his 'Timæus,' says that that island was totally swallowed up by a prodigious earthquake.  Of some such shocks the Isles of Arran, the promontories of Antrim, and some of the western islands of Scotland, bear evident marks.--O'Flaherty's Sketch of the Island of Arran.] 
On the ocean that hollows the rocks where ye dwell,
A shadowy land has appeared, as they tell;
Men thought it a region of sunshine and rest,
And they called it Hy-Brasail the isle of the blest.
From year unto year on the ocean's blue rim,
The beautiful spectre showed lovely and dim;
The golden clouds curtained the deep where it lay,
And it looked like an Eden, away, far away!

A peasant who heard of the wonderful tale,
In breeze of the Orient loosened his sail;
From Ara, the holy, he turned to the west,
For though Ara was holy, Hy-Brasail was blest.
He heard not the voices that called from the shore--
He heard not the the rising wind's menacing roar;
Home, kindred, and safety, he left on that day,
And he sped to Hy-Brasail, away, far away!

Morn rose on the deep, and that shadowy isle,
O'er the faint rim of distance, reflected its smile;
Noon burned on the wave, and that shadowy shore
Seemed lovelily distant, and faint as before;
Lone evening came down on the wanderer's track,
And to Ara again he looked timidly back;
Oh! far on the verge of the ocean it lay,
Yet the isle of the blest was away, far away!

Rash dreamer, return!  O, ye winds of the main,
Bear him back to his own peaceful Ara again.
Rash fool! for a vision of fanciful bliss,
To barter thy calm life of labour and peace.
The warning of reason was spoken in vain;
He never re-visited Ara again!
Night fell on the deep, amidst tempest and spray,
And he died on the waters, away, far away!
[A curious 4to tract relating to this tradition is in the possession of the editor. It is called "The Western Wonder, or O Brazeel, an Inchanted Island discovered; with a relation of Two Ship-wracks in a dreadful Sea-storm in that discovery.  London, printed for N. C., MDCLXXIV."--ED. 1869.]

Notes

  1. Atlantis of Plato   For a ballad on this subject, by the Rev. G. Croly, see "The Island of Atlantis."

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MacCarthy, Denis Florence (1817-1882), ed. The Book of Irish Ballads. Dublin: James Duffy, 1869.

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