| Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). A Victorian Anthology, 1837–1895. 1895. |
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| The Boatman of Kinsale |
| | | Thomas Osborne Davis (1814–45) |
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| HIS kiss is sweet, his word is kind, | |
| His love is rich to me; | |
| I could not in a palace find | |
| A truer heart than he. | |
| The eagle shelters not his nest | 5 |
| From hurricane and hail | |
| More bravely than he guards my breast— | |
| The Boatman of Kinsale. | |
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| The wind that round the Fastnet sweeps | |
| Is not a whit more pure, | 10 |
| The goat that down Cnoc Sheehy leaps | |
| Has not a foot more sure. | |
| No firmer hand nor freer eye | |
| E’er faced an autumn gale, | |
| De Courcy’s heart is not so high— | 15 |
| The Boatman of Kinsale. | |
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| The brawling squires may heed him not, | |
| The dainty stranger sneer, | |
| But who will dare to hurt our cot | |
| When Myles O’Hea is here? | 20 |
| The scarlet soldiers pass along: | |
| They’d like, but fear to rail: | |
| His blood is hot, his blow is strong— | |
| The Boatman of Kinsale. | |
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| His hooker’s in the Scilly van, | 25 |
| When seines are in the foam, | |
| But money never made the man, | |
| Nor wealth a happy home, | |
| So, bless’d with love and liberty, | |
| While he can trim a sail, | 30 |
| He ’ll trust in God, and cling to me— | |
| The Boatman of Kinsale. | |
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