Avenging And Bright

"Avenging and Bright" is a song written by Thomas Moore in 1811, based on the Gaelic air "Cruchan Na Feine" and a translation of Deidre by O'Flanagan. The song recalls the Irish tragic story of the betrayal of Deirdre and the sons of Usna by the king of Ulster. It also serves as an allegory for Moore. In 2017, Damien O'Kane released an album titled "Avenging & Bright," inspired by ancient legend. The album builds on the solid foundation laid in his 2015 album, "Areas Of High Traffic."

The words of this song were suggested by the very ancient Irish story called "Deirdri, or the Lamentable Fate of the Sons of Usnach," which has been translated literally from the Gaelic, by Mr. O'Flanagan (see vol. i. of Transactions of the Gaelic Society of Dublin), and upon which it appears that the "Darthula of Macpherson" is founded. The treachery of Conor, King of Ulster, in putting to death the three sons of Usna, was the cause of a deso lating war against Ulster, which terminated in the destruction of Eman. "The story (says Mr. O'Flanagan) has been, from time immemorial, held in high repute as one of the three tragic stories of the Irish. These are, 'The death of the children of Touran;' 'The death of the children of Lear' (both regarding Tuatha de Danane) and this, 'The death of the children of Usnach,' which is a Milesian story." It will be recollected that among these Melodi es, there is a ballad upon the story of the children of Lear or Lir: "Silent, oh Moyle!" etc. 

To download the easy alphanotes sheet music, look here. Enjoy! 

Lyrics:

1. Avenging and bright fall the swift sword of Erin*
On him who the brave sons of Usna betray'd!
For every fond eye he hath waken'd a tear in
A drop from his heart-wounds shall weep o'er her blade.

2. By the red cloud that hung over Conor's dark dwelling,**
When Ulad's*** three champions lay sleeping in gore
By the billows of war, which so often, high swelling,
Have wafted these heroes to victory's shore.

3. We swear to avenge them! - no joy shall be tasted,
The harp shall be silent, the maiden unwed,
Our halls shall be mute, and our fields shall lie wasted,
Till vengeance is wreak'd on the murderer's head.

4. Yes, monarch! though sweet are our home recollections,
Though sweet are the tears that from tenderness fall;
Though sweet are our friendships, our hopes, our affections,
Revenge on a tyrant is sweetest of all!