After Oxenford and Benedict's deaths in 1877 and 1885 respectively, Boucicault denounced opera in its entirety as being an impossible dramatic genre in the April 1887 issue of The North American Review, where he also recounted his experiences in creating the libretto for The Lily of Killarney as well as his general opinion of the work: "[...] Benedict clung to his affection for the Irish play, and we took John Oxenford into our counsels [sic].
Our names are coupled on the title page of the libretto, but all my share in the business was watching my lamb cut up into a marketable shape [...] All the sentiment, all the tenderness, all the simple poetry was swept away.
[...] The glamour, the intoxication produced by the music not only covers and conceals the wretched thing on which it rests, but transmutes the poorest acting into admirable effort.
[3][4] Its convincing handling of Irish idiom is interesting considering Benedict's German-Jewish origins, but Benedict's training under Weber instilled a strong respect and instinct for appropriate musical atmosphere, and he also included some genuine Irish melodies, notably the 18th-century air "The Cruiskeen Lawn" which he set as a quartet (No.
Some of the opera's songs – notably The moon hath raised her lamp above and Eily Mavourneen – remain in the repertoire.
Corrigan informs Mrs Cregan that he is waiting to row her son over the water to visit Eily.
Outside the cave, Danny, thinking that he has Eily at his mercy, tells her that she must either surrender her marriage certificate to him or take it with her to the bottom of the lake.
Danny, however, makes a confession on the point of death of the plot against Eily and suspicion falls on Hardress as the instigator of the scheme.