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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/15153-h.zip b/15153-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0a95856 --- /dev/null +++ b/15153-h.zip diff --git a/15153-h/15153-h.htm b/15153-h/15153-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..91eb600 --- /dev/null +++ b/15153-h/15153-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1845 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="ISO-8859-1"?> +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Land of Heart's Desire, by W.B. Yeats. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + .poem span.i8 {display: block; margin-left: 8em;} + .poem span.i9 {display: block; margin-left: 9em;} + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .blockquote {margin-left: 30%; margin-right: 10%;} + .pagenum {position: absolute; left: 92%; font-size: smaller; text-align: right;} /* page numbers */ + .sidenote {width: 20%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em; margin-left: 1em; + float: right; clear: right; margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; background: #eeeeee; border: dashed 1px;} + + .bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + .bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + .bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + .br {border-right: solid 2px;} + .bbox {border: solid 2px;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: super; font-size: .8em; text-decoration: none;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span {display: block; margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Land Of Heart's Desire (Little Blue +Book#335), by W.B. Yeats + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Land Of Heart's Desire (Little Blue Book#335) + +Author: W.B. Yeats + +Release Date: February 23, 2005 [EBook #15153] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LAND OF HEART'S DESIRE *** + + + + +Produced by Ted Garvin, Melissa Er-Raqabi and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net. + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>LITTLE BLUE BOOK NO. 335</h3> +<h3>Edited by E. Haldeman-Julius</h3> + +<h1>The Land of +Heart's Desire</h1> + +<h2>W.B. Yeats</h2> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p class="center">HALDEMAN-JULIUS COMPANY<br /> +GIRARD, KANSAS +</p> + + + +<p class="center">PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h1>THE LAND OF HEART'S DESIRE</h1> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + +<h2>PERSONS</h2> + + +<p class="center"> +MAURTEEN BRUIN.<br /> +SHAWN BRUIN.<br /> +FATHER HART.<br /> +BRIDGET BRUIN.<br /> +MAIRE BRUIN.<br /> +A FAERY CHILD.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>The scene is laid in the Barony of Kilmacowen in<br /> +the county of Sligo, and the time is the<br /> +end of Eighteenth Century. The<br /> +characters are supposed to<br /> +speak in Gaelic</i>.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE LAND OF HEART'S DESIRE</h2><!-- Page 5 --> + + +<div style="margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%;"><p><i>The kitchen of</i> MAURTEEN BRAIN'S <i>house. An +open grate with a turf fire is at the left +side of the room, with a table in front of +it. There is a door leading to the open +air at the back, and another door a little +to its left, leading into an inner room. +There is a window, a settle, and a large +dresser on the right side of the room, and +a great bowl of primroses on the sill of the +window.</i> MAURTEEN BRUIN, FATHER HART; +<i>and</i> BRIDGET BRUIN <i>are sitting at the table.</i> +SHAWN BRUIN <i>is setting the table for supper.</i> +MAIRE BRUIN <i>sits on the settle reading +a yellow manuscript</i>.</p></div> + + +<p>BRIDGET BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>Because I bade her go and feed the calves,<br /></span> +<span>She took that old book down out of the thatch<br /></span> +<span>And has been doubled over it all day.<br /></span> +<span>We would be deafened by her groans and moans<br /></span> +<span>Had she to work as some do, Father Hart,<br /></span> +<span>Get up at dawn like me, and mend and scour;<br /></span> +<span>Or ride abroad in the boisterous night like you,<br /></span> +<span>The pyx and blessed bread under your arm.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>SHAWN BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>You are too cross.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>BRIDGET BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">The young side with the young.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>MAURTEEN BRUIN.<!-- Page 6 --></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>She quarrels with my wife a bit at times,<br /></span> +<span>And is too deep just now in the old book;<br /></span> +<span>But do not blame her greatly; she will grow<br /></span> +<span>As quiet as a puff-ball in a tree<br /></span> +<span>When but the moons of marriage dawn and die<br /></span> +<span>For half a score of times.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>FATHER HART</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Their hearts are wild<br /></span> +<span>As be the hearts of birds, till children come.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>BRIDGET BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>She would not mind the griddle, milk the cow,<br /></span> +<span>Or even lay the knives and spread the cloth.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>FATHER HART.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> + +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>I never saw her read a book before:<br /></span> +<span>What may it be?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>MAURTEEN BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">I do not rightly know:<br /></span> +<span>It has been in the thatch for fifty years.<br /></span> +<span>My father told me my grandfather wrote it,<br /></span> +<span>Killed a red heifer and bound it with the hide.<br /></span> +<span>But draw your chair this way—supper is spread;<br /></span> +<span>And little good he got out of the book,<br /></span> +<span>Because it filled his house with roaming bards,<br /></span> +<span>And roaming ballad-makers and the like,<br /></span> +<span>And wasted all his goods.—Here is the wine;<br /></span> +<span>The griddle bread's beside you, Father Hart.<br /></span> +<span>Colleen, what have you got there in the book<br /></span> +<span>That you must leave the bread to cool? Had I,<br /></span> +<span>Or had my father, read or written books<br /></span> +<span><!-- Page 7 -->There were no stockings full of silver and gold<br /></span> +<span>To come, when I am dead, to Shawn and you.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>FATHER HART.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>You should not fill your head with foolish dreams.<br /></span> +<span>What are you reading?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>MAIRE BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">How a Princess Edene,<br /></span> +<span>A daughter of a King of Ireland, heard<br /></span> +<span>A voice singing on a May eve like this,<br /></span> +<span>And followed, half awake and half asleep,<br /></span> +<span>Until she came into the land of faery,<br /></span> +<span>Where nobody gets old and godly and grave,<br /></span> +<span>Where nobody gets old and crafty and wise,<br /></span> +<span>Where nobody gets old and bitter of tongue;<br /></span> +<span>And she is still there, busied with a dance.<br /></span> +<span>Deep in the dewy shadow of a wood,<br /></span> +<span>Or where stars walk upon a mountain top.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>MAURTEEN BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>Persuade the colleen to put by the book:<br /></span> +<span>My grandfather would mutter just such things,<br /></span> +<span>And he was no judge of a dog or horse,<br /></span> +<span>And any idle boy could blarney him.<br /></span> +<span>Just speak your mind.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>FATHER HART.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Put it away, my colleen.<br /></span> +<span>God spreads the heavens above us like great wings,<br /></span> +<span>And gives a little round of deeds and days,<br /></span> +<span>And then come the wrecked angels and set snares,<br /></span> +<span><!-- Page 8 -->And bait them with light hopes and heavy dreams,<br /></span> +<span>Until the heart is puffed with pride and goes,<br /></span> +<span>Half shuddering and half joyous, from God's peace;<br /></span> +<span>And it was some wrecked angel, blind tears,<br /></span> +<span>Who flattered Edene's heart with merry words.<br /></span> +<span>My colleen, I have seen some other girls<br /></span> +<span>Restless and ill at ease, but years went by<br /></span> +<span>And they grew like their neighbours and were glad<br /></span> +<span>In minding children, working at the churn,<br /></span> +<span>And gossiping of weddings and of wakes;<br /></span> +<span>For life moves out of a red flare of dreams<br /></span> +<span>Into a common light of common hours,<br /></span> +<span>Until old age bring the red flare again.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>SHAWN BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>Yet do not blame her greatly, Father Hart,<br /></span> +<span>For she is dull while I am in the fields,<br /></span> +<span>And mother's tongue were harder still to bear,<br /></span> +<span>But for her fancies: this is May Eve too,<br /></span> +<span>When the good people post about the world,<br /></span> +<span>And surely one may think of them to-night.<br /></span> +<span>Maire, have you the primroses to fling<br /></span> +<span>Before the door to make a golden path<br /></span> +<span>For them to bring good luck into the house.<br /></span> +<span>Remember, they may steal new-married brides<br /></span> +<span>Upon May Eve.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p>MAIRE BRUIN <i>(going over to the window +and taking the flowers from the bowl.)</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Here are the primroses.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<!-- Page 9 --> +<div style="margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 25%;"><p>[<i>She goes to the door and strews the +primroses outside</i>.</p></div> + +<p>FATHER HART.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>You do well, daughter, because God permits<br /></span> +<span>Great power to the good people on May Eve.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>MAURTEEN BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>They can work all their will with primroses—<br /></span> +<span>Change them to golden money, or little flames<br /></span> +<span>To burn up those who do them any wrong.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>MAIRE BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>I had no sooner flung them by the door<br /></span> +<span>Than the wind cried and hurried them away.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>BRIDGET BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>May God have mercy on us!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>MAIRE BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">The good people<br /></span> +<span>Will not be lucky to the house this year,<br /></span> +<span>But I am glad that I was courteous to them,<br /></span> +<span>For are not they, likewise, children of God?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>FATHER HART.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>No, child; they are the children of the fiend,<br /></span> +<span>And they have power until the end of Time,<br /></span> +<span>When God shall fight with them a great pitched battle<br /></span> +<span>And hack them into pieces.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>MAIRE BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">He will smile,<br /></span> +<span>Father, perhaps, and open his great door,<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><!-- Page 10 -->FATHER HART.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>Did but the lawless angels see that door<br /></span> +<span>They would fall, slain by everlasting peace;<br /></span> +<span>And when such angels knock upon our doors<br /></span> +<span>Who goes with them must drive through the same storm.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div style="margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 25%;"><p>[<i>A knock at the door</i>. MAIRE BRUIN <i>opens +it and then goes to the dresser and fills a +porringer with milk and hands it through +the door and takes it back empty and closes +the door</i>.</p></div> + +<p>MAIRE BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>A little queer old woman cloaked in green<br /></span> +<span>Who came to beg a porringer of milk.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>BRIDGET BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>The good people go asking milk and fire<br /></span> +<span>Upon May Eve—Woe on the house that gives<br /></span> +<span>For they have power upon it for a year.<br /></span> +<span>I knew you would bring evil on the house<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>MAURTEEN BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>Who was she?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>MAIRE BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>Both the tongue and face were strange.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>MAURTEEN BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>Some strangers came last week to Clover Hill;<br /></span> +<span>She must be one of them.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>BRIDGET BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>I am afraid.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>MAURTEEN BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>The priest will keep all harm out of the house.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><!-- Page 11 -->FATHER HART.</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>The Cross will keep all harm out of the house<br /></span> +<span>While it hangs there.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>MAURTEEN BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Come, sit beside me, colleen,<br /></span> +<span>And cut away your dreams of discontent,<br /></span> +<span>For I would have you light up my last days<br /></span> +<span>Like a bright torch of pine, and when I die<br /></span> +<span>I will make you the wealthiest hereabout;<br /></span> +<span>For hid away where nobody can find<br /></span> +<span>I have a stocking full of silver and gold.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>BRIDGET BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>You are the fool of every pretty face,<br /></span> +<span>And I must pinch and pare that my son's wife<br /></span> +<span>May have all kinds of ribbons for her head.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>MAURTEEN BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>Do not be cross; she is a right good girl!<br /></span> +<span>The butter's by your elbow, Father Hart.<br /></span> +<span>My colleen, have not Fate and Time and Change<br /></span> +<span>Done well for me and for old Bridget there?<br /></span> +<span>We have a hundred acres of good land,<br /></span> +<span>And sit beside each other at the fire,<br /></span> +<span>The wise priest of our parish to our right,<br /></span> +<span>And you and our dear son to left of us.<br /></span> +<span>To sit beside the board and drink good wine<br /></span> +<span>And watch the turf smoke coiling from the fire<br /></span> +<span>And feel content and wisdom in your heart,<br /></span> +<span>This is the best of life; when we are young<br /></span> +<span>We long to tread a way none trod before,<br /></span> +<span>But find the excellent old way through love<br /></span> +<span><!-- Page 12 -->And through the care of children to the hour<br /></span> +<span>For bidding Fate and Time and Change good-bye.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div style="margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 25%;"><p>[A <i>knock at the door</i>. MAIRE BRUIN <i>opens +it and then takes a sod of turf out of the +hearth in the tongs and passes it through +the door and closes the door and remains +standing by it</i>.</p></div> + +<p>MAIRE BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>A little queer old man in a green coat,<br /></span> +<span>Who asked a burning sod to light his pipe.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>BRIDGET BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>You have now given milk and fire and brought<br /></span> +<span>For all you know, evil upon the house.<br /></span> +<span>Before you married you were idle and fine,<br /></span> +<span>And went about with ribbons on your head;<br /></span> +<span>And now you are a good-for-nothing wife.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>SHAWN BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>Be quiet, mother!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>MAURTEEN BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">You are much too cross!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>MAIRE BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>What do I care if I have given this house,<br /></span> +<span>Where I must hear all day a bitter tongue,<br /></span> +<span>Into the power of faeries!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>BRIDGET BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">You know, well<br /></span> +<span>How calling the good people by that name<br /></span> +<span><!-- Page 13 -->Or talking of them over much at all<br /></span> +<span>May bring all kinds of evil on the house.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>MAIRE BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>Come, faeries, take me out of this dull house!<br /></span> +<span>Let me have all the freedom I have lost—<br /></span> +<span>Work when I will and idle when I will!<br /></span> +<span>Faeries, came take me out of this dull world,<br /></span> +<span>For I would ride with you upon the wind,<br /></span> +<span>Run on the top of the dishevelled tide,<br /></span> +<span>And dance upon the mountains like a flame!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>FATHER HART.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>You cannot know the meaning of your words!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>MAIRE BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>Father, I am right weary of four tongues:<br /></span> +<span>A tongue that is too crafty and too wise,<br /></span> +<span>A tongue that is too godly and too grave,<br /></span> +<span>A tongue that is more bitter than the tide,<br /></span> +<span>And a kind tongue too full of drowsy love,<br /></span> +<span>Of drowsy love and my captivity.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div style="margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 25%;"><p>[SHAWN BRUIN <i>comes over to her and leads +her to the settle.</i></p></div> + +<p>SHAWN BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>Do not blame me: I often lie awake<br /></span> +<span>Thinking that all things trouble your bright head—<br /></span> +<span>How beautiful it is—such broad pale brows<br /></span> +<span>Under a cloudy blossoming of hair!<br /></span> +<span>Sit down beside me here—these are too old,<br /></span> +<span>And have forgotten they were ever young.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><!-- Page 14 -->MAIRE BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>O, you are the great door-post of this house,<br /></span> +<span>And I the red nasturtium climbing up.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div style="margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 25%;"><p>[<i>She takes</i> SHAWN'S <i>hand but looks shyly at +the priest and lets it go</i>.</p></div> + +<p>FATHER HART.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>Good daughter, take his hand—by love alone<br /></span> +<span>God binds us to Himself and to the hearth<br /></span> +<span>And shuts us from the waste beyond His peace,<br /></span> +<span>From maddening freedom and bewildering light.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>SHAWN BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>Would that the world were mine to give it you<br /></span> +<span>With every quiet hearth and barren waste,<br /></span> +<span>The maddening freedom of its woods and tides,<br /></span> +<span>And the bewildering lights upon its hills.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>MAIRE BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>Then I would take and break it in my hands<br /></span> +<span>To see you smile watching it crumble away.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>SHAWN BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>Then I would mould a world of fire and dew<br /></span> +<span>With no one bitter, grave, or over wise,<br /></span> +<span>And nothing marred or old to do you wrong.<br /></span> +<span>And crowd the enraptured quiet of the sky<br /></span> +<span>With candles burning to your lonely face.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>MAIRE BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>Your looks are all the candles that I need.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>SHAWN BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>Once a fly dancing in a beam o' the sun,<br /></span> +<span><!-- Page 15 -->Or the light wind blowing out of the dawn,<br /></span> +<span>Could fill your heart with dreams none other knew,<br /></span> +<span>But now the indissoluble sacrament<br /></span> +<span>Has mixed your heart that was most proud and cold<br /></span> +<span>With my warm heart for ever; and sun and moor,<br /></span> +<span>Must fade and heaven be rolled up like a scroll;<br /></span> +<span>But your white spirit still walk by my spirit.<br /></span> +<span>For not a power in earth and heaven and hell<br /></span> +<span>Can break this bond binding heart unto heart.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div style="margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 25%;"><p>[A VOICE <i>sings in the distance</i>.</p></div> + +<p>MAIRE BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>Did you hear something call? O, guard me close,<br /></span> +<span>Because I have said wicked things to-night.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>A VOICE (<i>close to the door</i>).</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>The wind blows out of the gates of the day,<br /></span> +<span>The wind blows over the lonely of heart<br /></span> +<span>And the lonely of heart is withered away,<br /></span> +<span>While the faeries dance in a place apart,<br /></span> +<span>Shaking their milk-white feet in a ring,<br /></span> +<span>Tossing their milk-white arms in the air;<br /></span> +<span>For they hear the wind laugh, and murmur, and sing<br /></span> +<span>Of a land where even the old are fair,<br /></span> +<span>And even the wise are merry of tongue;<br /></span> +<span>But I heard a reed of Coolaney say,<br /></span> +<span>'When the wind has laughed and murmured and sung,<br /></span> +<span>The lonely of heart must wither away!'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><!-- Page 16 -->MAURTEEN BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>I am right happy, and would make all else<br /></span> +<span>Be happy too. I hear a child outside,<br /></span> +<span>And will go bring her in out of the cold.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div style="margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 25%;"><p>[<i>He opens the door. A</i> CHILD <i>dressed in a +green jacket with a red cap comes into +the house</i>.</p></div> + +<p>THE CHILD.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>I tire of winds and waters and pale lights!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>MAURTEEN BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>You are most welcome. It is cold out there,<br /></span> +<span>Who'd think to face such cold on a May Eve.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>THE CHILD.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>And when I tire of this warm little house,<br /></span> +<span>There is one here who must away, away,<br /></span> +<span>To where the woods, the stars, and the white streams<br /></span> +<span>Are holding a continual festival.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>MAURTEEN BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>O listen to her dreamy and strange talk,<br /></span> +<span>Come to the fire.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>THE CHILD.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">I'll sit upon your knee,<br /></span> +<span>For I have run from where the winds are born,<br /></span> +<span>And long-to rest my feet a little while.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div style="margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 25%;"><p>[<i>She sits upon his knee</i>.</p></div> + +<p>BRIDGET BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>How pretty you are!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><!-- Page 17 -->MAURTEEN BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Your hair is wet with dew!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>BRIDGET BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>I'll chafe your poor chilled feet.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>MAURTEEN BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i9">You must have come<br /></span> +<span>A long long way, for I have never seen<br /></span> +<span>Your pretty face, and must be tired and hungry;<br /></span> +<span>Here is some bread and wine.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>THE CHILD.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">They are both nasty.<br /></span> +<span>Old mother, have you nothing nice for me?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>BRIDGET BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>I have some honey!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div style="margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 25%;"><p>[<i>She goes into the next room</i>.</p></div> + +<p>MAURTEEN BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>You are a dear child;<br /></span> +<span>The mother was quite cross before you came.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div style="margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 25%;"><p>[BRIDGET <i>returns with the honey, and goes +to the dresser and fills a porringer with +milk.</i></p></div> + +<p>BRIDGET BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>She is the child of gentle people; look<br /></span> +<span>At her white hands and at her pretty dress.<br /></span> +<span>I've brought you some new milk, but wait awhile<br /></span> +<span>And I will put it by the fire to warm,<br /></span> +<span>For things well fitted for poor folk like us<br /></span> +<span>Would never please a high-born child like you.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><!-- Page 18 -->THE CHILD.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>Old mother, my old mother, the green dawn<br /></span> +<span>Brightens above while you blow up the fire;<br /></span> +<span>And evening finds you spreading the white cloth.<br /></span> +<span>The young may lie in bed and dream and hope,<br /></span> +<span>But you work on because your heart is old.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>BRIDGET BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>The young are idle.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>THE CHILD.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Old father, you are wise,<br /></span> +<span>And all the years have gathered in your heart<br /></span> +<span>To whisper of the wonders that are gone.<br /></span> +<span>The young must sigh through many a dream and hope,<br /></span> +<span>But you are wise because your heart is old.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>MAURTEEN BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>O, who would think to find so young a child<br /></span> +<span>Loving old age and wisdom.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div style="margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 25%;"><p>[BRIDGET <i>gives her more bread and honey</i>.</p></div> + +<p>THE CHILD.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">No more, mother.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>MAURTEEN BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>What a small bite; The milk is ready now;<br /></span> +<span>What a small sip!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>THE CHILD.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Put on my shoes, old mother,<br /></span> +<span>For I would like to dance now I have dined.<br /></span> +<span><!-- Page 19 -->The reeds are dancing by Coolaney lake,<br /></span> +<span>And I would like to dance until the reeds<br /></span> +<span>And the loud wind, the white wave on the shore,<br /></span> +<span>And all the stars have danced themselves to sleep.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div style="margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 25%;"><p>[BRIDGET <i>having put on her shoes, she gets +off the old man's knees and is about to +dance, but suddenly sees the crucifix and +shrieks and covers her eyes</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>What is that ugly thing on the black cross?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>FATHER HART.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>You cannot know how naughty your words are!<br /></span> +<span>That is Our Blessed Lord!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>THE CHILD.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Hide it away!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>BRIDGET BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>I have begun to be afraid again!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>THE CHILD.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>Hide it away!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>MAURTEEN BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">That would be wickedness!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>BRIDGET BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>That would be sacrilege!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>THE CHILD</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">The tortured thing!<br /></span> +<span>Hide it away.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><!-- Page 20 -->MAURTEEN BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Her parents are to blame.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>FATHER HART.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>That is the image of the Son of God.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>[<i>The</i> CHILD <i>puts her arm round his neck +lovingly and kisses him</i>.</p> + +<p>THE CHILD.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>Hide it away! Hide it away!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>MAURTEEN BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">No! no!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>FATHER HART.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>Because you are so young and little a child<br /></span> +<span>I will go take it down.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>THE CHILD.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Hide it away,<br /></span> +<span>And cover it out of sight and out of mind.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>FATHER HART (<i>takes it down and carries it +towards the inner room).</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>Since you have come into this barony<br /></span> +<span>I will instruct you in our blessed faith:<br /></span> +<span>Being a clever child you will soon learn.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div style="margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 25%;"><p>(<i>To the others</i>.)</p></div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>We must be tender with all budding things,<br /></span> +<span>Our Maker let no thought of Calvary<br /></span> +<span>Trouble the morning stars in their first song.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div style="margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 25%;"><p>[<i>Puts the crucifix in the inner room</i>.</p></div> + +<p>THE CHILD.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>O, what a nice, smooth floor to dance upon!<br /></span> +<span><!-- Page 21 -->The wind is blowing on the waving reeds,<br /></span> +<span>The wind is blowing on the heart of man.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div style="margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 25%;"><p>[<i>She dances, swaying about like the reeds</i>.</p></div> + +<p>MAIRE (<i>to</i> SHAWN BRUIN).</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>Just now when she came near I thought I heard<br /></span> +<span>Other small steps beating upon the floor,<br /></span> +<span>And a faint music blowing in the wind—<br /></span> +<span>Invisible pipes giving her feet the time.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>SHAWN BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>I heard no step but hers.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>MAIRE BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Look to the bolt!<br /></span> +<span>Because the unholy powers are abroad.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>MAURTEEN BRUIN (<i>to the</i> CHILD).</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>Come over here, and if you promise me<br /></span> +<span>Not to talk wickedly of holy things<br /></span> +<span>I'll give you something.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>THE CHILD.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>Bring it me, old father!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div style="margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 25%;"><p>[MAURTEEN BRUIN <i>goes into the next room</i>.</p></div> + +<p>FATHER HART.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>I will have queen cakes when you come to me!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div style="margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 25%;"><p>[MAURTEEN BRUIN <i>returns and lays a piece +of money on the table. The</i> CHILD <i>makes +a gesture of refusal</i>.</p></div> + +<p><!-- Page 22 -->MAURTEEN BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>It will buy lots of toys; see how it glitters!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>THE CHILD.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>Come, tell me, do you love me?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>MAURTEEN BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">I love you!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>THE CHILD.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>Ah! but you love this fireside!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>FATHER HART.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">I love you.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>THE CHILD.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>But you love Him above.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>BRIDGET BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">She is blaspheming.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>THE CHILD (<i>to</i> MAIRE).</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>And do you likewise love me?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>MAIRE BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">I don't know.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>THE CHILD.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>You love that great tall fellow over there:<br /></span> +<span>Yet I could make you ride upon the winds,<br /></span> +<span>Run on the top of the dishevelled tide,<br /></span> +<span>And dance upon the mountains like a flame!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>MAIRE BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>Queen of the Angels and kind Saints defend us!<br /></span> +<span><!-- Page 23 -->Some dreadful fate has fallen: before she came<br /></span> +<span>The wind cried out and took the primroses.<br /></span> +<span>And I gave milk and fire, and when she came<br /></span> +<span>She made you hide the blessed crucifix;<br /></span> +<span>She wears, too, the green jacket and red cap<br /></span> +<span>Of the unholy creatures of the Raths.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>FATHER HART.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>You fear because of her wild, pretty prates;<br /></span> +<span>She knows no better.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(<i>To the</i> CHILD) Child, how old are you?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>THE CHILD.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>My own dear people live a long, long time,<br /></span> +<span>So I am young; but measure by your years<br /></span> +<span>And I am older than the eagle cock<br /></span> +<span>Who blinks and blinks on Ballydawley Hill,<br /></span> +<span>And he's the oldest thing under the moon.<br /></span> +<span>At times I merely care to dance and dance—<br /></span> +<span>At times grow wiser than the eagle cock.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>FATHER HART.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>What are you?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>THE CHILD.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">I am of the faery people.<br /></span> +<span>I sent my messengers for milk and fire,<br /></span> +<span>And then I heard one call to me and came.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div style="margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 25%;"><p>[<i>They all except</i> MAIRE BRUIN <i>gather about +the priest for protection.</i> MAIRE BRUIN +<i>stays on the settle as if in a trance of +terror. The</i> CHILD <i>takes primroses from +the great bowl and begins to strew them +between herself and the priest and about</i><!-- Page 24 --> +MAIRE BRUIN. <i>During the following +dialogue</i> SHAWN BRUIN <i>goes more than +once to the brink of the primroses, but +shrinks back to the others timidly</i>.</p></div> + +<p>FATHER HART.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>I will confront this mighty spirit alone.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div style="margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 25%;"><p>[<i>They cling to him and hold him back</i>.</p></div> + +<p>THE CHILD (<i>while she strews the primroses</i>.)</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>No one whose heart is heavy with human tears<br /></span> +<span>Can cross these little cressets of the wood.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>FATHER HART.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>Be not afraid, the Father is with us,<br /></span> +<span>And all the nine angelic hierarchies,<br /></span> +<span>The Holy Martyrs and the Innocents,<br /></span> +<span>The adoring Magi in their coats of mail,<br /></span> +<span>And He who died and rose on the third day,<br /></span> +<span>And Mary with her seven times wounded heart.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>[<i>The</i> CHILD <i>ceases strewing the primroses, +and kneels upon the settle beside</i> MAIRE +<i>and puts her arms about her neck.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>Cry daughter to the Angels and the Saints.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>THE CHILD.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>You shall go with me, newly-married bride,<br /></span> +<span>And gaze upon a merrier multitude:<br /></span> +<span>White-armed Nuala and Ardroe the Wise,<br /></span> +<span>Feacra of the hurtling foam, and him<br /></span> +<span>Who is the ruler of the western host,<br /></span> +<span>Finvarra, and their Land of Heart's Desire,<br /></span> +<span>Where beauty has no ebb, decay no flood,<br /></span> +<span>But <!-- Page 25 -->joy is wisdom, Time an endless song.<br /></span> +<span>I kiss you and the world begins to fade.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>FATHER HART.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>Daughter, I call you unto home and love!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>THE CHILD.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>Stay, and come with me, newly-married bride,<br /></span> +<span>For, if you hear him, you grow like the rest:<br /></span> +<span>Bear children, cook, be mindful of the churn,<br /></span> +<span>And wrangle over butter, fowl, and eggs,<br /></span> +<span>And sit at last there, old and bitter of tongue,<br /></span> +<span>Watching the white stars war upon your hopes.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>FATHER HART.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>Daughter, I point you out the way to heaven!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>THE CHILD.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>But I can lead you, newly-married bride,<br /></span> +<span>Where nobody gets old and crafty and wise,<br /></span> +<span>Where nobody gets old and godly and grave,<br /></span> +<span>Where nobody gets old and bitter of tongue,<br /></span> +<span>And where kind tongues bring no captivity,<br /></span> +<span>For we are only true to the far lights<br /></span> +<span>We follow singing, over valley and hill.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>FATHER HART.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>By the dear name of the one crucified,<br /></span> +<span>I bid you, Maire Bruin, come to me.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>THE CHILD.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>I keep you in the name of your own heart!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div style="margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 25%;"><p>[<i>She leaves the settle, and stooping takes +up a mass of primroses and kisses them</i>.</p></div> + +<!-- Page 26 --> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>We have great power to-night, dear golden folk<br /></span> +<span>For he took down and hid the crucifix.<br /></span> +<span>And my invisible brethren fill the house;<br /></span> +<span>I hear their footsteps going up and down.<br /></span> +<span>O, they shall soon rule all the hearts of men<br /></span> +<span>And own all lands; last night they merrily danced<br /></span> +<span>About his chapel belfrey! (<i>To</i> MAIRE.) Come away,<br /></span> +<span>I hear my brethren bidding us away!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>FATHER HART.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>I will go fetch the crucifix again.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div style="margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 25%;"><p>[<i>They hang about him in terror and prevent +him from moving.</i></p></div> + +<p>BRIDGET BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>The enchanted flowers will kill us if you go.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>MAURTEEN BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>They turn the flowers to little twisted flames.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>SHAWN BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>The little twisted flames burn up the heart.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>THE CHILD.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>I hear them call us, newly-married bride.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>MAIRE BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>I will go with you.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>FATHER HART.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">She is lost, alas,<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><!-- Page 27 -->THE CHILD (<i>standing by the door</i>).</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>Then, follow but the heavy body of clay,<br /></span> +<span>And clinging mortal hope must fall from you;<br /></span> +<span>For we who ride the winds, run on the waves,<br /></span> +<span>And dance upon the mountains, are more light<br /></span> +<span>Than dewdrops on the banners of the dawn.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>MAIRE BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>Then take my soul.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div style="margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 25%;"><p>[SHAWN BRUIN <i>goes over to her</i>.</p></div> + +<p>SHAWN BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Beloved, do not leave me!<br /></span> +<span>What will my life be if you go with her?<br /></span> +<span>Remember when I met you by the well<br /></span> +<span>And took your hand in mine and spoke of love.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div></div> + +<p>MAIRE BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>Dear face! Dear voice!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>THE CHILD.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Come, newly-married bride!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>MAIRE BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>I always loved her world—and yet—and yet<br /></span> +<span>I think that I would stay if I could stay.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div style="margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 25%;"><p>[<i>Sinks into his arms</i>.<br /> +</p></div> + +<p>THE CHILD (<i>from the door</i>).</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>White bird, white bird, come with me, little bird!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>MAIRE BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>She calls my soul!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><!-- Page 28 -->THE CHILD.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Come with me, little bird!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>MAIRE BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>I can hear songs and dancing!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>SHAWN BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Stay with me!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>MAIRE BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>Dear, I would stay—and yet and yet—<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>THE CHILD.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">White bird!<br /></span> +<span>Come, little bird with crest of gold!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>MAIRE BRUIN (<i>very softly</i>).</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">And yet—<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>THE CHILD.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>Come, little bird with silver feet!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>SHAWN BRUIN.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Dead, dead!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>FATHER HART.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>Thus do the evil spirits snatch their prey<br /></span> +<span>Almost out of the very hand of God;<br /></span> +<span>And day by day their power is more and more,<br /></span> +<span>And men and women leave old paths, for pride<br /></span> +<span><!-- Page 29 -->Comes knocking with thin knuckles on the heart.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>A VOICE <i>sings outside</i>—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>The wind blows out of the gates of the day,<br /></span> +<span>The wind blows over the lonely of heart,<br /></span> +<span>And the lonely of heart is withered away,<br /></span> +<span>While the faeries dance in a place apart,<br /></span> +<span>Shaking their milk-white feet in a ring,<br /></span> +<span>Tossing their milk-white arms in the air;<br /></span> +<span>For they hear the wind laugh and murmur and sing<br /></span> +<span>Of a land where even the old are fair,<br /></span> +<span>And even the wise are merry of tongue;<br /></span> +<span>But I heard a reed of Coolaney say,<br /></span> +<span>'When the wind has laughed and murmured and sung,<br /></span> +<span>The lonely of heart must wither away.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div style="margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 25%;"><p>[<i>The song is taken up by many voices, who +sing loudly, as if in triumph. Some of +the voices seem to come from within the +house.</i></p></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Land Of Heart's Desire (Little +Blue Book#335), by W.B. Yeats + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LAND OF HEART'S DESIRE *** + +***** This file should be named 15153-h.htm or 15153-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/5/1/5/15153/ + +Produced by Ted Garvin, Melissa Er-Raqabi and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Land Of Heart's Desire (Little Blue Book#335) + +Author: W.B. Yeats + +Release Date: February 23, 2005 [EBook #15153] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LAND OF HEART'S DESIRE *** + + + + +Produced by Ted Garvin, Melissa Er-Raqabi and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net. + + + + + + +LITTLE BLUE BOOK NO. 335 +Edited by E. Haldeman-Julius + +The Land of +Heart's Desire + +W.B. Yeats + + +HALDEMAN-JULIUS COMPANY +GIRARD, KANSAS + + + + +PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA + + + + +THE LAND OF HEART'S DESIRE + + + + +PERSONS + + +MAURTEEN BRUIN. +SHAWN BRUIN. +FATHER HART. +BRIDGET BRUIN. +MAIRE BRUIN. +A FAERY CHILD. + +_The scene is laid in the Barony of Kilmacowen +in the county of Sligo, and the time is the +end of Eighteenth Century. The +characters are supposed to +speak in Gaelic._ + + + + +THE LAND OF HEART'S DESIRE + + + _The kitchen of_ MAURTEEN BRAIN'S _house. An open grate with a turf + fire is at the left side of the room, with a table in front of it. + There is a door leading to the open air at the back, and another door + a little to its left, leading into an inner room. There is a window, a + settle, and a large dresser on the right side of the room, and a great + bowl of primroses on the sill of the window._ MAURTEEN BRUIN, FATHER + HART; _and_ BRIDGET BRUIN _are sitting at the table._ SHAWN BRUIN _is + setting the table for supper._ MAIRE BRUIN _sits on the settle reading + a yellow manuscript._ + + +BRIDGET BRUIN. + +Because I bade her go and feed the calves, +She took that old book down out of the thatch +And has been doubled over it all day. +We would be deafened by her groans and moans +Had she to work as some do, Father Hart, +Get up at dawn like me, and mend and scour; +Or ride abroad in the boisterous night like you, +The pyx and blessed bread under your arm. + +SHAWN BRUIN. + +You are too cross. + +BRIDGET BRUIN. + +The young side with the young. + +MAURTEEN BRUIN. + +She quarrels with my wife a bit at times, +And is too deep just now in the old book; +But do not blame her greatly; she will grow +As quiet as a puff-ball in a tree +When but the moons of marriage dawn and die +For half a score of times. + +FATHER HART + + Their hearts are wild +As be the hearts of birds, till children come. + +BRIDGET BRUIN. + +She would not mind the griddle, milk the cow, +Or even lay the knives and spread the cloth. + +FATHER HART. + +I never saw her read a book before: +What may it be? + +MAURTEEN BRUIN. + + I do not rightly know: +It has been in the thatch for fifty years. +My father told me my grandfather wrote it, +Killed a red heifer and bound it with the hide. +But draw your chair this way--supper is spread; +And little good he got out of the book, +Because it filled his house with roaming bards, +And roaming ballad-makers and the like, +And wasted all his goods.--Here is the wine; +The griddle bread's beside you, Father Hart. +Colleen, what have you got there in the book +That you must leave the bread to cool? Had I, +Or had my father, read or written books +There were no stockings full of silver and gold +To come, when I am dead, to Shawn and you. + +FATHER HART. + +You should not fill your head with foolish dreams. +What are you reading? + +MAIRE BRUIN. + + How a Princess Edene, +A daughter of a King of Ireland, heard +A voice singing on a May eve like this, +And followed, half awake and half asleep, +Until she came into the land of faery, +Where nobody gets old and godly and grave, +Where nobody gets old and crafty and wise, +Where nobody gets old and bitter of tongue; +And she is still there, busied with a dance. +Deep in the dewy shadow of a wood, +Or where stars walk upon a mountain top. + +MAURTEEN BRUIN. + +Persuade the colleen to put by the book: +My grandfather would mutter just such things, +And he was no judge of a dog or horse, +And any idle boy could blarney him. +Just speak your mind. + +FATHER HART. + + Put it away, my colleen. +God spreads the heavens above us like great wings, +And gives a little round of deeds and days, +And then come the wrecked angels and set snares, +And bait them with light hopes and heavy dreams, +Until the heart is puffed with pride and goes, +Half shuddering and half joyous, from God's peace; +And it was some wrecked angel, blind tears, +Who flattered Edene's heart with merry words. +My colleen, I have seen some other girls +Restless and ill at ease, but years went by +And they grew like their neighbours and were glad +In minding children, working at the churn, +And gossiping of weddings and of wakes; +For life moves out of a red flare of dreams +Into a common light of common hours, +Until old age bring the red flare again. + +SHAWN BRUIN. + +Yet do not blame her greatly, Father Hart, For she is dull while I am in +the fields, And mother's tongue were harder still to bear, But for her +fancies: this is May Eve too, When the good people post about the world, +And surely one may think of them to-night. Maire, have you the primroses +to fling Before the door to make a golden path For them to bring good luck +into the house. Remember, they may steal new-married brides Upon May Eve. + +MAIRE BRUIN _(going over to the window and taking the flowers from the +bowl.)_ + +Here are the primroses. + + [_She goes to the door and strews the primroses outside._ + +FATHER HART. + +You do well, daughter, because God permits +Great power to the good people on May Eve. + +MAURTEEN BRUIN. + +They can work all their will with primroses-- +Change them to golden money, or little flames +To burn up those who do them any wrong. + +MAIRE BRUIN. + +I had no sooner flung them by the door +Than the wind cried and hurried them away. + +BRIDGET BRUIN. + +May God have mercy on us! + +MAIRE BRUIN. + + The good people +Will not be lucky to the house this year, +But I am glad that I was courteous to them, +For are not they, likewise, children of God? + +FATHER HART. + +No, child; they are the children of the fiend, +And they have power until the end of Time, +When God shall fight with them a great pitched battle +And hack them into pieces. + +MAIRE BRUIN. + + He will smile, +Father, perhaps, and open his great door, + +FATHER HART. + +Did but the lawless angels see that door +They would fall, slain by everlasting peace; +And when such angels knock upon our doors +Who goes with them must drive through the same storm. + + [_A knock at the door._ MAIRE BRUIN _opens it and then goes to the + dresser and fills a porringer with milk and hands it through the door + and takes it back empty and closes the door._ + +MAIRE BRUIN. + +A little queer old woman cloaked in green +Who came to beg a porringer of milk. + +BRIDGET BRUIN. + +The good people go asking milk and fire +Upon May Eve--Woe on the house that gives +For they have power upon it for a year. +I knew you would bring evil on the house + +MAURTEEN BRUIN. + +Who was she? + +MAIRE BRUIN. + +Both the tongue and face were strange. + +MAURTEEN BRUIN. + +Some strangers came last week to Clover Hill; +She must be one of them. + +BRIDGET BRUIN. + +I am afraid. + +MAURTEEN BRUIN. + +The priest will keep all harm out of the house. + +FATHER HART. + + +The Cross will keep all harm out of the house +While it hangs there. + +MAURTEEN BRUIN. + + Come, sit beside me, colleen, +And cut away your dreams of discontent, +For I would have you light up my last days +Like a bright torch of pine, and when I die +I will make you the wealthiest hereabout; +For hid away where nobody can find +I have a stocking full of silver and gold. + +BRIDGET BRUIN. + +You are the fool of every pretty face, +And I must pinch and pare that my son's wife +May have all kinds of ribbons for her head. + +MAURTEEN BRUIN. + +Do not be cross; she is a right good girl! +The butter's by your elbow, Father Hart. +My colleen, have not Fate and Time and Change +Done well for me and for old Bridget there? +We have a hundred acres of good land, +And sit beside each other at the fire, +The wise priest of our parish to our right, +And you and our dear son to left of us. +To sit beside the board and drink good wine +And watch the turf smoke coiling from the fire +And feel content and wisdom in your heart, +This is the best of life; when we are young +We long to tread a way none trod before, +But find the excellent old way through love +And through the care of children to the hour +For bidding Fate and Time and Change good-bye. + + [A _knock at the door._ MAIRE BRUIN _opens it and then takes a sod of + turf out of the hearth in the tongs and passes it through the door and + closes the door and remains standing by it._ + +MAIRE BRUIN. + +A little queer old man in a green coat, +Who asked a burning sod to light his pipe. + +BRIDGET BRUIN. + +You have now given milk and fire and brought +For all you know, evil upon the house. +Before you married you were idle and fine, +And went about with ribbons on your head; +And now you are a good-for-nothing wife. + +SHAWN BRUIN. + +Be quiet, mother! + +MAURTEEN BRUIN. + +You are much too cross! + +MAIRE BRUIN. + +What do I care if I have given this house, +Where I must hear all day a bitter tongue, +Into the power of faeries! + +BRIDGET BRUIN. + + You know, well +How calling the good people by that name +Or talking of them over much at all +May bring all kinds of evil on the house. + +MAIRE BRUIN. + +Come, faeries, take me out of this dull house! +Let me have all the freedom I have lost-- +Work when I will and idle when I will! +Faeries, came take me out of this dull world, +For I would ride with you upon the wind, +Run on the top of the dishevelled tide, +And dance upon the mountains like a flame! + +FATHER HART. + +You cannot know the meaning of your words! + +MAIRE BRUIN. + +Father, I am right weary of four tongues: +A tongue that is too crafty and too wise, +A tongue that is too godly and too grave, +A tongue that is more bitter than the tide, +And a kind tongue too full of drowsy love, +Of drowsy love and my captivity. + + [SHAWN BRUIN _comes over to her and leads her to the settle._ + +SHAWN BRUIN. + +Do not blame me: I often lie awake +Thinking that all things trouble your bright head-- +How beautiful it is--such broad pale brows +Under a cloudy blossoming of hair! +Sit down beside me here--these are too old, +And have forgotten they were ever young. + +MAIRE BRUIN. + +O, you are the great door-post of this house, +And I the red nasturtium climbing up. + + [_She takes_ SHAWN'S _hand but looks shyly at the priest and lets it + go._ + +FATHER HART. + +Good daughter, take his hand--by love alone +God binds us to Himself and to the hearth +And shuts us from the waste beyond His peace, +From maddening freedom and bewildering light. + +SHAWN BRUIN. + +Would that the world were mine to give it you +With every quiet hearth and barren waste, +The maddening freedom of its woods and tides, +And the bewildering lights upon its hills. + +MAIRE BRUIN. + +Then I would take and break it in my hands +To see you smile watching it crumble away. + +SHAWN BRUIN. + +Then I would mould a world of fire and dew +With no one bitter, grave, or over wise, +And nothing marred or old to do you wrong. +And crowd the enraptured quiet of the sky +With candles burning to your lonely face. + +MAIRE BRUIN. + +Your looks are all the candles that I need. + +SHAWN BRUIN. + +Once a fly dancing in a beam o' the sun, +Or the light wind blowing out of the dawn, +Could fill your heart with dreams none other knew, +But now the indissoluble sacrament +Has mixed your heart that was most proud and cold +With my warm heart for ever; and sun and moor, +Must fade and heaven be rolled up like a scroll; +But your white spirit still walk by my spirit. +For not a power in earth and heaven and hell +Can break this bond binding heart unto heart. + + [A VOICE _sings in the distance._ + +MAIRE BRUIN. + +Did you hear something call? O, guard me close, +Because I have said wicked things to-night. + +A VOICE (_close to the door_). + +The wind blows out of the gates of the day, + The wind blows over the lonely of heart +And the lonely of heart is withered away, + While the faeries dance in a place apart, +Shaking their milk-white feet in a ring, + Tossing their milk-white arms in the air; +For they hear the wind laugh, and murmur, and sing + Of a land where even the old are fair, +And even the wise are merry of tongue; + But I heard a reed of Coolaney say, +'When the wind has laughed and murmured and sung, + The lonely of heart must wither away!' + +MAURTEEN BRUIN. + +I am right happy, and would make all else +Be happy too. I hear a child outside, +And will go bring her in out of the cold. + + [_He opens the door. A_ CHILD _dressed in a green jacket with a red + cap comes into the house._ + +THE CHILD. + +I tire of winds and waters and pale lights! + +MAURTEEN BRUIN. + +You are most welcome. It is cold out there, +Who'd think to face such cold on a May Eve. + +THE CHILD. + +And when I tire of this warm little house, +There is one here who must away, away, +To where the woods, the stars, and the white streams +Are holding a continual festival. + +MAURTEEN BRUIN. + +O listen to her dreamy and strange talk, +Come to the fire. + +THE CHILD. + + I'll sit upon your knee, +For I have run from where the winds are born, +And long-to rest my feet a little while. + + [_She sits upon his knee._ + +BRIDGET BRUIN. + +How pretty you are! + +MAURTEEN BRUIN. + +Your hair is wet with dew! + +BRIDGET BRUIN. + +I'll chafe your poor chilled feet. + +MAURTEEN BRUIN. + + You must have come +A long long way, for I have never seen +Your pretty face, and must be tired and hungry; +Here is some bread and wine. + +THE CHILD. + + They are both nasty. +Old mother, have you nothing nice for me? + +BRIDGET BRUIN. + +I have some honey! + + [_She goes into the next room._ + +MAURTEEN BRUIN. + +You are a dear child; +The mother was quite cross before you came. + + [BRIDGET _returns with the honey, and goes to the dresser and fills a + porringer with milk._ + +BRIDGET BRUIN. + +She is the child of gentle people; look +At her white hands and at her pretty dress. +I've brought you some new milk, but wait awhile +And I will put it by the fire to warm, +For things well fitted for poor folk like us +Would never please a high-born child like you. + +THE CHILD. + +Old mother, my old mother, the green dawn +Brightens above while you blow up the fire; +And evening finds you spreading the white cloth. +The young may lie in bed and dream and hope, +But you work on because your heart is old. + +BRIDGET BRUIN. + +The young are idle. + +THE CHILD. + + Old father, you are wise, +And all the years have gathered in your heart +To whisper of the wonders that are gone. +The young must sigh through many a dream and hope, +But you are wise because your heart is old. + +MAURTEEN BRUIN. + +O, who would think to find so young a child +Loving old age and wisdom. + + [BRIDGET _gives her more bread and honey._ + +THE CHILD. + +No more, mother. + +MAURTEEN BRUIN. + +What a small bite; The milk is ready now; +What a small sip! + +THE CHILD. + + Put on my shoes, old mother, +For I would like to dance now I have dined. +The reeds are dancing by Coolaney lake, +And I would like to dance until the reeds +And the loud wind, the white wave on the shore, +And all the stars have danced themselves to sleep. + + [BRIDGET _having put on her shoes, she gets off the old man's knees + and is about to dance, but suddenly sees the crucifix and shrieks and + covers her eyes._ + +What is that ugly thing on the black cross? + +FATHER HART. + +You cannot know how naughty your words are! +That is Our Blessed Lord! + +THE CHILD. + +Hide it away! + +BRIDGET BRUIN. + +I have begun to be afraid again! + +THE CHILD. + +Hide it away! + +MAURTEEN BRUIN. + +That would be wickedness! + +BRIDGET BRUIN. + +That would be sacrilege! + +THE CHILD + + The tortured thing! +Hide it away. + +MAURTEEN BRUIN. + +Her parents are to blame. + +FATHER HART. + +That is the image of the Son of God. + +[_The_ CHILD _puts her arm round his neck lovingly and kisses him. + +THE CHILD. + +Hide it away! Hide it away! + +MAURTEEN BRUIN. + +No! no! + +FATHER HART. + +Because you are so young and little a child +I will go take it down. + +THE CHILD. + + Hide it away, +And cover it out of sight and out of mind. + + FATHER HART (_takes it down and carries it towards the inner room)._ + +Since you have come into this barony +I will instruct you in our blessed faith: +Being a clever child you will soon learn. + + (_To the others.) + +We must be tender with all budding things, +Our Maker let no thought of Calvary +Trouble the morning stars in their first song. + + [_Puts the crucifix in the inner room._ + +THE CHILD. + +O, what a nice, smooth floor to dance upon! +The wind is blowing on the waving reeds, +The wind is blowing on the heart of man. + + [_She dances, swaying about like the reeds._ + +MAIRE (_to_ SHAWN BRUIN). + +Just now when she came near I thought I heard +Other small steps beating upon the floor, +And a faint music blowing in the wind-- +Invisible pipes giving her feet the time. + +SHAWN BRUIN. + +I heard no step but hers. + +MAIRE BRUIN. + + Look to the bolt! +Because the unholy powers are abroad. + +MAURTEEN BRUIN (_to the_ CHILD). + +Come over here, and if you promise me +Not to talk wickedly of holy things +I'll give you something. + +THE CHILD. + +Bring it me, old father! + + [MAURTEEN BRUIN _goes into the next room._ + +FATHER HART. + +I will have queen cakes when you come to me! + + [MAURTEEN BRUIN _returns and lays a piece of money on the table. The_ + CHILD _makes a gesture of refusal._ + +MAURTEEN BRUIN. + +It will buy lots of toys; see how it glitters! + +THE CHILD. + +Come, tell me, do you love me? + +MAURTEEN BRUIN. + +I love you! + +THE CHILD. + +Ah! but you love this fireside! + +FATHER HART. + +I love you. + +THE CHILD. + +But you love Him above. + +BRIDGET BRUIN. + +She is blaspheming. + +THE CHILD (_to_ MAIRE). + +And do you likewise love me? + +MAIRE BRUIN. + +I don't know. + +THE CHILD. + +You love that great tall fellow over there: +Yet I could make you ride upon the winds, +Run on the top of the dishevelled tide, +And dance upon the mountains like a flame! + +MAIRE BRUIN. + +Queen of the Angels and kind Saints defend us! +Some dreadful fate has fallen: before she came +The wind cried out and took the primroses. +And I gave milk and fire, and when she came +She made you hide the blessed crucifix; +She wears, too, the green jacket and red cap +Of the unholy creatures of the Raths. + +FATHER HART. + +You fear because of her wild, pretty prates; +She knows no better. + (_To the_ CHILD) Child, how old are you? + +THE CHILD. + +My own dear people live a long, long time, +So I am young; but measure by your years +And I am older than the eagle cock +Who blinks and blinks on Ballydawley Hill, +And he's the oldest thing under the moon. +At times I merely care to dance and dance-- +At times grow wiser than the eagle cock. + +FATHER HART. + +What are you? + +THE CHILD. + + I am of the faery people. +I sent my messengers for milk and fire, +And then I heard one call to me and came. + + [_They all except_ MAIRE BRUIN _gather about the priest for + protection._ MAIRE BRUIN _stays on the settle as if in a trance of + terror. The_ CHILD _takes primroses from the great bowl and begins to + strew them between herself and the priest and about_ MAIRE BRUIN. + _During the following dialogue_ SHAWN BRUIN _goes more than once to + the brink of the primroses, but shrinks back to the others timidly._ + +FATHER HART. + +I will confront this mighty spirit alone. + + [_They cling to him and hold him back._ + +THE CHILD (_while she strews the primroses.) + +No one whose heart is heavy with human tears +Can cross these little cressets of the wood. + +FATHER HART. + +Be not afraid, the Father is with us, +And all the nine angelic hierarchies, +The Holy Martyrs and the Innocents, +The adoring Magi in their coats of mail, +And He who died and rose on the third day, +And Mary with her seven times wounded heart. + +[_The_ CHILD _ceases strewing the primroses, and kneels upon the settle +beside_ MAIRE _and puts her arms about her neck._ + +Cry daughter to the Angels and the Saints. + +THE CHILD. + +You shall go with me, newly-married bride, +And gaze upon a merrier multitude: +White-armed Nuala and Ardroe the Wise, +Feacra of the hurtling foam, and him +Who is the ruler of the western host, +Finvarra, and their Land of Heart's Desire, +Where beauty has no ebb, decay no flood, +But joy is wisdom, Time an endless song. +I kiss you and the world begins to fade. + +FATHER HART. + +Daughter, I call you unto home and love! + +THE CHILD. + +Stay, and come with me, newly-married bride, +For, if you hear him, you grow like the rest: +Bear children, cook, be mindful of the churn, +And wrangle over butter, fowl, and eggs, +And sit at last there, old and bitter of tongue, +Watching the white stars war upon your hopes. + +FATHER HART. + +Daughter, I point you out the way to heaven! + +THE CHILD. + +But I can lead you, newly-married bride, +Where nobody gets old and crafty and wise, +Where nobody gets old and godly and grave, +Where nobody gets old and bitter of tongue, +And where kind tongues bring no captivity, +For we are only true to the far lights +We follow singing, over valley and hill. + +FATHER HART. + +By the dear name of the one crucified, +I bid you, Maire Bruin, come to me. + +THE CHILD. + +I keep you in the name of your own heart! + + [_She leaves the settle, and stooping takes up a mass of primroses and + kisses them._ + + + + + + +We have great power to-night, dear golden folk +For he took down and hid the crucifix. +And my invisible brethren fill the house; +I hear their footsteps going up and down. +O, they shall soon rule all the hearts of men +And own all lands; last night they merrily danced +About his chapel belfrey! (_To_ MAIRE.) Come away, +I hear my brethren bidding us away! + +FATHER HART. + +I will go fetch the crucifix again. + + [_They hang about him in terror and prevent him from moving._ + +BRIDGET BRUIN. + +The enchanted flowers will kill us if you go. + +MAURTEEN BRUIN. + +They turn the flowers to little twisted flames. + +SHAWN BRUIN. + +The little twisted flames burn up the heart. + +THE CHILD. + +I hear them call us, newly-married bride. + +MAIRE BRUIN. + +I will go with you. + +FATHER HART. + +She is lost, alas, + +THE CHILD (_standing by the door_). + +Then, follow but the heavy body of clay, +And clinging mortal hope must fall from you; +For we who ride the winds, run on the waves, +And dance upon the mountains, are more light +Than dewdrops on the banners of the dawn. + +MAIRE BRUIN. + +Then take my soul. + + [SHAWN BRUIN _goes over to her._ + +SHAWN BRUIN. + + Beloved, do not leave me! +What will my life be if you go with her? +Remember when I met you by the well +And took your hand in mine and spoke of love. + +MAIRE BRUIN. + +Dear face! Dear voice! + +THE CHILD. + +Come, newly-married bride! + +MAIRE BRUIN. + +I always loved her world--and yet--and yet +I think that I would stay if I could stay. + +[_Sinks into his arms. + +THE CHILD (_from the door_). + +White bird, white bird, come with me, little bird! + +MAIRE BRUIN. + +She calls my soul! + +THE CHILD. + +Come with me, little bird! + +MAIRE BRUIN. + +I can hear songs and dancing! + +SHAWN BRUIN. + +Stay with me! + +MAIRE BRUIN. + +Dear, I would stay--and yet and yet-- + +THE CHILD. + + White bird! +Come, little bird with crest of gold! + +MAIRE BRUIN (_very softly_). + +And yet-- + +THE CHILD. + +Come, little bird with silver feet! + +SHAWN BRUIN. + +Dead, dead! + +FATHER HART. + +Thus do the evil spirits snatch their prey +Almost out of the very hand of God; +And day by day their power is more and more, +And men and women leave old paths, for pride +Comes knocking with thin knuckles on the heart. + +A VOICE _sings outside_-- + +The wind blows out of the gates of the day, + The wind blows over the lonely of heart, +And the lonely of heart is withered away, + While the faeries dance in a place apart, +Shaking their milk-white feet in a ring, + Tossing their milk-white arms in the air; +For they hear the wind laugh and murmur and sing + Of a land where even the old are fair, +And even the wise are merry of tongue; + But I heard a reed of Coolaney say, +'When the wind has laughed and murmured and sung, + The lonely of heart must wither away.' + + [_The song is taken up by many voices, who sing loudly, as if in + triumph. Some of the voices seem to come from within the house._ + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Land Of Heart's Desire (Little +Blue Book#335), by W.B. Yeats + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LAND OF HEART'S DESIRE *** + +***** This file should be named 15153.txt or 15153.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/5/1/5/15153/ + +Produced by Ted Garvin, Melissa Er-Raqabi and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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