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diff --git a/16839-h/16839-h.htm b/16839-h/16839-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5879dc0 --- /dev/null +++ b/16839-h/16839-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1582 @@ +<!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> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Sixteen Poems By William Allingham + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + 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%; + } + + .toc {font-weight: bold;} + .endcomment {margin-left: 2em; width: 25em;} + .pagenum {position: absolute; left: 92%; font-size: smaller; text-align: right; color: gray;} /* page numbers */ + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 1em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 2em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i12 {display: block; margin-left: 6em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i6 {display: block; margin-left: 3em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i8 {display: block; margin-left: 4em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Sixteen Poems, by William Allingham + +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: Sixteen Poems + +Author: William Allingham + +Release Date: October 9, 2005 [EBook #16839] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SIXTEEN POEMS *** + + + + +Produced by David Starner, Sigal Alon and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<h1>SIXTEEN POEMS BY WILLIAM<br /> +ALLINGHAM: SELECTED BY<br /> +WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS</h1> + + + + + +<h2> +<br /><br /><br /><br /> +THE DUN EMER PRESS<br /> +DUNDRUM<br /> +MCMV +</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CONTENTS.</h2> +<table summary="This table helps format the book's table of contents"> + +<tr><td></td><td><span class="toc">Page</span></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#LET_ME_SING_OF_WHAT_I_KNOW"><span class="toc">Let Me Sing of What I Know</span></a></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#THE_WINDING_BANKS_OF_ERNE"><span class="toc">The Winding Banks of Erne</span></a></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#ABBEY_ASAROE"><span class="toc">Abbey Asaroe</span></a></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_7">7</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#A_DREAM"><span class="toc">A Dream</span></a></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_10">10</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#THE_FAIRIES"><span class="toc">The Fairies</span></a></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_12">12</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#THE_LEPRACAUN_OR_FAIRY_SHOEMAKER"><span class="toc">The Lepracaun or Fairy Shoemaker</span></a></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_14">14</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#THE_GIRLS_LAMENTATION"><span class="toc">The Girl's Lamentation</span></a></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_17">17</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#THE_NOBLEMANS_WEDDING"><span class="toc">The Nobleman's Wedding</span></a></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_20">20</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#KATE_O_BELASHANNY"><span class="toc">Kate O' Belashanny</span></a></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_22">22</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#FOUR_DUCKS_ON_A_POND"><span class="toc">Four Ducks on a Pond</span></a></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_24">24</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#AEOLIAN_HARP"><span class="toc">Æolian Harp</span></a></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_24">24</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#THE_MAIDS_OF_ELFIN-MERE"><span class="toc">The Maids of Elfin-mere</span></a></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_25">25</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#TWILIGHT_VOICES"><span class="toc">Twilight Voices</span></a></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_26">26</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#THE_LOVER_AND_BIRDS"><span class="toc">The Lover and Birds</span></a></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_28">28</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#THE_ABBOT_OF_INNISFALLEN"><span class="toc">The Abbot of Innisfallen</span></a></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_30">30</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#THE_RUINED_CHAPEL"><span class="toc">The Ruined Chapel</span></a></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#Page_34">34</a></td></tr> +</table> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1"></a>[1]</span></p> +<h2><a name="LET_ME_SING_OF_WHAT_I_KNOW" id="LET_ME_SING_OF_WHAT_I_KNOW"></a>LET ME SING OF WHAT I KNOW</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A wild west Coast, a little Town,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where little Folk go up and down,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tides flow and winds blow:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Night and Tempest and the Sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Human Will and Human Fate:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What is little, what is great?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Howsoe'er the answer be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let me sing of what I know.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_WINDING_BANKS_OF_ERNE" id="THE_WINDING_BANKS_OF_ERNE"></a>THE WINDING BANKS OF ERNE</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Adieu to Belashanny!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">where I was bred and born;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Go where I may, I'll think of you,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">as sure as night and morn.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The kindly spot, the friendly town,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">where every one is known,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And not a face in all the place<br /></span> +<span class="i2">but partly seems my own;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's not a house or window,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">there's not a field or hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, east or west, in foreign lands,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I'll recollect them still.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I leave my warm heart with you,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">tho' my back I'm forced to turn—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Adieu to Belashanny,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">and the winding banks of Erne!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2"></a>[2]</span><span class="i0">No more on pleasant evenings<br /></span> +<span class="i2">we'll saunter down the Mall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the trout is rising to the fly,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">the salmon to the fall.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The boat comes straining on her net,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">and heavily she creeps,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cast off, cast off—she feels the oars,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">and to her berth she sweeps;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now fore and aft keep hauling,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">and gathering up the clew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till a silver wave of salmon<br /></span> +<span class="i2">rolls in among the crew.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then they may sit, with pipes a-lit,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">and many a joke and 'yarn';—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Adieu to Belashanny,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">and the winding banks of Erne!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The music of the waterfall,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">the mirror of the tide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When all the green-hill'd harbour<br /></span> +<span class="i2">is full from side to side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From Portnasun to Bulliebawns,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">and round the Abbey Bay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From rocky Inis Saimer<br /></span> +<span class="i2">to Coolnargit sandhills gray;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While far upon the southern line,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">to guard it like a wall,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3"></a>[3]</span> +<span class="i0">The Leitrim mountains clothed in blue<br /></span> +<span class="i2">gaze calmly over all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And watch the ship sail up or down,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">the red flag at her stern;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Adieu to these, adieu to all<br /></span> +<span class="i2">the winding banks of Erne!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Farewell to you, Kildoney lads,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">and them that pull an oar,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A lug-sail set, or haul a net,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">from the Point to Mullaghmore;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From Killybegs to bold Slieve-League,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">that ocean-mountain steep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Six hundred yards in air aloft,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">six hundred in the deep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From Dooran to the Fairy Bridge,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">and round by Tullen strand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Level and long, and white with waves,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">where gull and curlew stand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Head out to sea when on your lee<br /></span> +<span class="i2">the breakers you discern!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Adieu to all the billowy coast,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">and winding banks of Erne!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Farewell, Coolmore,—Bundoran! and<br /></span> +<span class="i2">your summer crowds that run<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4"></a>[4]</span> +<span class="i0">From inland homes to see with joy<br /></span> +<span class="i2">th' Atlantic-setting sun;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To breathe the buoyant salted air,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">and sport among the waves;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To gather shells on sandy beach,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">and tempt the gloomy caves;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To watch the flowing, ebbing tide,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">the boats, the crabs, the fish;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Young men and maids to meet and smile,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">and form a tender wish;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sick and old in search of health,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">for all things have their turn—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I must quit my native shore,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">and the winding banks of Erne!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Farewell to every white cascade<br /></span> +<span class="i2">from the Harbour to Belleek,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And every pool where fins may rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">and ivy-shaded creek;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sloping fields, the lofty rocks,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">where ash and holly grow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The one split yew-tree gazing<br /></span> +<span class="i2">on the curving flood below;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Lough, that winds through islands<br /></span> +<span class="i2">under Turaw mountain green;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Castle Caldwell's stretching woods,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">with tranquil bays between;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5"></a>[5]</span> +<span class="i0">And Breesie Hill, and many a pond<br /></span> +<span class="i2">among the heath and fern,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I must say adieu—adieu<br /></span> +<span class="i2">to the winding banks of Erne!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The thrush will call through Camlin groves<br /></span> +<span class="i2">the live-long summer day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The waters run by mossy cliff,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">and banks with wild flowers gay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The girls will bring their work and sing<br /></span> +<span class="i2">beneath a twisted thorn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or stray with sweethearts down the path<br /></span> +<span class="i2">among the growing corn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Along the river-side they go,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">where I have often been,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, never shall I see again<br /></span> +<span class="i2">the happy days I've seen!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A thousand chances are to one<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I never may return,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Adieu to Belashanny,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">and the winding banks of Erne!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Adieu to evening dances,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">when merry neighbours meet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the fiddle says to boys and girls,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Get up and shake your feet!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To 'seanachas' and wise old talk<br /></span> +<span class="i2">of Erin's days gone by—<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6"></a>[6]</span> +<span class="i0">Who trench'd the rath on such a hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">and where the bones may lie<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of saint, or king, or warrior chief;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">with tales of fairy power,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And tender ditties sweetly sung<br /></span> +<span class="i2">to pass the twilight hour.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The mournful song of exile<br /></span> +<span class="i2">is now for me to learn—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Adieu, my dear companions<br /></span> +<span class="i2">on the winding banks of Erne!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now measure from the Commons down<br /></span> +<span class="i2">to each end of the Purt,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Round the Abbey, Moy, and Knather,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I wish no one any hurt;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Main Street, Back Street, College Lane,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">the Mall, and Portnasun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If any foes of mine are there,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I pardon every one.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I hope that man and womankind<br /></span> +<span class="i2">will do the same by me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For my heart is sore and heavy<br /></span> +<span class="i2">at voyaging the sea.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My loving friends I'll bear in mind,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">and often fondly turn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To think of Belashanny,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">and the winding banks of Erne.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7"></a>[7]</span><span class="i0">If ever I'm a money'd man,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I mean, please God, to cast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My golden anchor in the place<br /></span> +<span class="i2">where youthful years were pass'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though heads that now are black and brown<br /></span> +<span class="i2">must meanwhile gather gray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">New faces rise by every hearth,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">and old ones drop away—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet dearer still that Irish hill<br /></span> +<span class="i2">than all the world beside;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It's home, sweet home, where'er I roam<br /></span> +<span class="i2">through lands and waters wide.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And if the Lord allows me,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I surely will return<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To my native Belashanny,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">and the winding banks of Erne.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="ABBEY_ASAROE" id="ABBEY_ASAROE"></a>ABBEY ASAROE</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Gray, gray is Abbey Asaroe,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">by Belashanny town,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It has neither door nor window,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">the walls are broken down;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The carven-stones lie scatter'd<br /></span> +<span class="i2">in briar and nettle-bed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The only feet are those that come<br /></span> +<span class="i2">at burial of the dead.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8"></a>[8]</span> +<span class="i0">A little rocky rivulet<br /></span> +<span class="i2">runs murmuring to the tide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Singing a song of ancient days,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">in sorrow, not in pride;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The boortree and the lightsome ash<br /></span> +<span class="i2">across the portal grow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And heaven itself is now the roof<br /></span> +<span class="i2">of Abbey Asaroe.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It looks beyond the harbour-stream<br /></span> +<span class="i2">to Gulban mountain blue;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It hears the voice of Erna's fall,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Atlantic breakers too;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">High ships go sailing past it;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">the sturdy clank of oars<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brings in the salmon-boat to haul<br /></span> +<span class="i2">a net upon the shores;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And this way to his home-creek,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">when the summer day is done,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slow sculls the weary fisherman<br /></span> +<span class="i2">across the setting sun;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While green with corn is Sheegus Hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">his cottage white below;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But gray at every season<br /></span> +<span class="i2">is Abbey Asaroe.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There stood one day a poor old man<br /></span> +<span class="i2">above its broken bridge;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9"></a>[9]</span> +<span class="i0">He heard no running rivulet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">he saw no mountain-ridge;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He turn'd his back on Sheegus Hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">and view'd with misty sight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Abbey walls, the burial-ground<br /></span> +<span class="i2">with crosses ghostly white;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under a weary weight of years<br /></span> +<span class="i2">he bow'd upon his staff,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Perusing in the present time<br /></span> +<span class="i2">the former's epitaph;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For, gray and wasted like the walls,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">a figure full of woe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This man was of the blood of them<br /></span> +<span class="i2">who founded Asaroe.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">From Derry to Bundrowas Tower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Tirconnell broad was theirs;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spearmen and plunder, bards and wine,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">and holy abbot's prayers;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With chanting always in the house<br /></span> +<span class="i2">which they had builded high<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To God and to Saint Bernard,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">where at last they came to die.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At worst, no workhouse grave for him!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">the ruins of his race<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall rest among the ruin'd stones<br /></span> +<span class="i2">of this their saintly place.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10"></a>[10]</span> +<span class="i0">The fond old man was weeping;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">and tremulous and slow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Along the rough and crooked lane<br /></span> +<span class="i2">he crept from Asaroe.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="A_DREAM" id="A_DREAM"></a>A DREAM</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I heard the dogs howl in the moonlight night;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I went to the window to see the sight;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All the Dead that ever I knew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Going one by one and two by two.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">On they pass'd, and on they pass'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Townsfellows all, from first to last;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Born in the moonlight of the lane,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quench'd in the heavy shadow again.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Schoolmates, marching as when we play'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At soldiers once—but now more staid;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those were the strangest sight to me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who were drown'd, I knew, in the awful sea.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Straight and handsome folk; bent and weak, too;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some that I loved, and gasp'd to speak to;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some but a day in their churchyard bed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some that I had not known were dead.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11"></a>[11]</span><span class="i0">A long, long crowd—where each seem'd lonely,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet of them all there was one, one only,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Raised a head or look'd my way:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She linger'd a moment—she might not stay.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How long since I saw that fair pale face!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah! Mother dear! might I only place<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My head on thy breast, a moment to rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While thy hand on my tearful cheek were prest!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">On, on, a moving bridge they made<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Across the moon-stream, from shade to shade,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Young and old, women and men;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Many long-forgot, but remember'd then.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And first there came a bitter laughter;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A sound of tears the moment after;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then a music so lofty and gay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That every morning, day by day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I strive to recall it if I may.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12"></a>[12]</span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_FAIRIES" id="THE_FAIRIES"></a>THE FAIRIES</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Up the airy mountain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Down the rushy glen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We daren't go a-hunting<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For fear of little men;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wee folk, good folk,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Trooping all together;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Green jacket, red cap,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And white owl's feather!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Down along the rocky shore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some make their home,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They live on crispy pancakes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of yellow tide-foam;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some in the reeds<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the black mountain lake,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With frogs for their watch-dogs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All night awake.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">High on the hill-top<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The old King sits;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He is now so old and gray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He's nigh lost his wits.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With a bridge of white mist<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Columbkill he crosses,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On his stately journeys<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From Slieveleague to Rosses;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or going up with music<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13"></a>[13]</span> +<span class="i0">On cold starry nights,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To sup with the Queen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the gay Northern Lights.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They stole little Bridget<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For seven years long;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When she came down again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her friends were all gone.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They took her lightly back,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Between the night and morrow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They thought that she was fast asleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But she was dead with sorrow.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They have kept her ever since<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deep within the lake,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On a bed of flag-leaves,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Watching till she wake.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">By the craggy hill-side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through the mosses bare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They have planted thorn-trees<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For pleasure here and there.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is any man so daring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As dig them up in spite,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He shall find their sharpest thorns<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In his bed at night.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Up the airy mountain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Down the rushy glen,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14"></a>[14]</span> +<span class="i0">We daren't go a-hunting<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For fear of little men;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wee folk, good folk,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Trooping all together;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Green jacket, red cap,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And white owl's feather!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_LEPRACAUN_OR_FAIRY_SHOEMAKER" id="THE_LEPRACAUN_OR_FAIRY_SHOEMAKER"></a>THE LEPRACAUN <br /> +OR FAIRY SHOEMAKER</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Little Cowboy, what have you heard,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Up on the lonely rath's green mound?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Only the plaintive yellow bird<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sighing in sultry fields around,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chary, chary, chary, chee-ee!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Only the grasshopper and the bee?—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Tip-tap, rip-rap,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Tick-a-tack-too!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scarlet leather, sewn together,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This will make a shoe.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Left, right, pull it tight;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Summer days are warm;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Underground in winter,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Laughing at the storm!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lay your ear close to the hill.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do you not catch the tiny clamour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Busy click of an elfin hammer,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Voice of the Lepracaun singing shrill<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15"></a>[15]</span> +<span class="i0">As he merrily plies his trade?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He's a span<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a quarter in height.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Get him in sight, hold him tight,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And you're a made<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Man!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">You watch your cattle the summer day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sup on potatoes, sleep in the hay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How would you like to roll in your carriage,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Look for a duchess's daughter in marriage?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seize the Shoemaker—then you may!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Big boots a-hunting,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sandals in the hall,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">White for a wedding-feast,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Pink for a ball.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This way, that way,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">So we make a shoe;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Getting rich every stitch,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Tick-tack-too!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nine-and-ninety treasure-crocks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This keen miser-fairy hath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hid in mountains, woods, and rocks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ruin and round-tow'r, cave and rath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And where the cormorants build;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From times of old<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Guarded by him;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16"></a>[16]</span> +<span class="i2">Each of them fill'd<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Full to the brim<br /></span> +<span class="i4">With gold!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I caught him at work one day, myself,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the castle-ditch where foxglove grows,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A wrinkled, wizen'd, and bearded Elf,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spectacles stuck on his pointed nose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Silver buckles to his hose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leather apron—shoe in his lap—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Rip-rap, tip-tap,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Tick-tack-too!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(A grasshopper on my cap!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Away the moth flew!)<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Buskins for a fairy prince,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Brogues for his son,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Pay me well, pay me well,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When the job is done!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The rogue was mine, beyond a doubt.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I stared at him; he stared at me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Servant, Sir!' 'Humph!' says he,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And pull'd a snuff-box out.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He took a long pinch, look'd better pleased,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The queer little Lepracaun;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Offer'd the box with a whimsical grace,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pouf! he flung the dust in my face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And while I sneezed,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Was gone!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17"></a>[17]</span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_GIRLS_LAMENTATION" id="THE_GIRLS_LAMENTATION"></a>THE GIRL'S LAMENTATION</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With grief and mourning I sit to spin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My Love passed by, and he didn't come in;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He passes by me, both day and night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And carries off my poor heart's delight.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There is a tavern in yonder town,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My Love goes there and he spends a crown;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He takes a strange girl upon his knee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And never more gives a thought to me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Says he, 'We'll wed without loss of time,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sure our love's but a little crime;'—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My apron-string now it's wearing short,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And my Love he seeks other girls to court.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O with him I'd go if I had my will,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'd follow him barefoot o'er rock and hill;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'd never once speak of all my grief<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If he'd give me a smile for my heart's relief.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In our wee garden the rose unfolds,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With bachelor's-buttons and marigolds;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll tie no posies for dance or fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A willow-twig is for me to wear.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18"></a>[18]</span><span class="i0">For a maid again I can never be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till the red rose blooms on the willow tree.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of such a trouble I've heard them tell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And now I know what it means full well.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As through the long lonesome night I lie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'd give the world if I might but cry;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I mus'n't moan there or raise my voice,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the tears run down without any noise.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And what, O what will my mother say?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She'll wish her daughter was in the clay.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My father will curse me to my face;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The neighbours will know of my black disgrace.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My sister's buried three years, come Lent;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But sure we made far too much lament.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beside her grave they still say a prayer—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I wish to God 'twas myself was there!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Candlemas crosses hang near my bed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To look at them puts me much in dread,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They mark the good time that's gone and past:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It's like this year's one will prove the last.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The oldest cross it's a dusty brown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the winter winds didn't shake it down;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19"></a>[19]</span> +<span class="i0">The newest cross keeps the colour bright;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the straw was reaping my heart was light.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The reapers rose with the blink of morn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And gaily stook'd up the yellow corn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To call them home to the field I'd run,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through the blowing breeze and the summer sun.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When the straw was weaving my heart was glad,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For neither sin nor shame I had,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the barn where oat-chaff was flying round,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the thumping flails made a pleasant sound.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now summer or winter to me it's one;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But oh! for a day like the time that's gone.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'd little care was it storm or shine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If I had but peace in this heart of mine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh! light and false is a young man's kiss,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a foolish girl gives her soul for this.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh! light and short is the young man's blame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a helpless girl has the grief and shame.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To the river-bank once I thought to go,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And cast myself in the stream below;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I thought 'twould carry us far out to sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where they'd never find my poor babe and me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20"></a>[20]</span><span class="i0">Sweet Lord, forgive me that wicked mind!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You know I used to be well-inclined.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, take compassion upon my state,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Because my trouble is so very great.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My head turns round with the spinning wheel,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a heavy cloud on my eyes I feel.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the worst of all is at my heart's core;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For my innocent days will come back no more.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_NOBLEMANS_WEDDING" id="THE_NOBLEMANS_WEDDING"></a>THE NOBLEMAN'S WEDDING</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I once was a guest at a Nobleman's wedding;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fair was the Bride, but she scarce had been kind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And now in our mirth, she had tears nigh the shedding<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her former true lover still runs in her mind.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Attired like a minstrel, her former true lover<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Takes up his harp, and runs over the strings;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there among strangers, his grief to discover,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A fair maiden's falsehood he bitterly sings.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Now here is the token of gold that was broken;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seven long years it was kept for your sake;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You gave it to me as a true lover's token;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No longer I'll wear it, asleep or awake.'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21"></a>[21]</span><span class="i0">She sat in her place by the head of the table,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The words of his ditty she mark'd them right well:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To sit any longer this bride was not able,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So down at the bridegroom's feet she fell.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'O one, one request, my lord, one and no other,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O this one request will you grant it to me?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To lie for this night in the arms of my mother,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ever, and ever thereafter with thee.'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her one, one request it was granted her fairly;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pale were her cheeks as she went up to bed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the very next morning, early, early,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They rose and they found this young bride was dead.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The bridegroom ran quickly, he held her, he kiss'd her,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He spoke loud and low, and listen'd full fain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He call'd on her waiting-maids round to assist her<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But nothing could bring the lost breath back again.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O carry her softly! the grave is made ready;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At head and at foot plant a laurel-bush green;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For she was a young and a sweet noble lady,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fairest young bride that I ever have seen.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22"></a>[22]</span></p> +<h2><a name="KATE_O_BELASHANNY" id="KATE_O_BELASHANNY"></a>KATE O' BELASHANNY</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Seek up and down, both fair and brown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We've purty lasses many, O;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But brown or fair, one girl most rare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Flow'r o' Belashanny, O.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As straight is she as poplar-tree<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Tho' not as aisy shaken, O,)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And walks so proud among the crowd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For queen she might be taken, O.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">From top to toe, where'er you go,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The loveliest girl of any, O,—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Ochone! your mind I find unkind,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Sweet Kate o' Belashanny, O!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">One summer day the banks were gay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Erne in sunshine glancin' there,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The big cascade its music play'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And set the salmon dancin' there.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Along the green my Joy was seen;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some goddess bright I thought her there;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fishes, too, swam close, to view<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her image in the water there.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">From top to toe, where'er you go,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The loveliest girl of any, O,—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Ochone! your mind I find unkind,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Sweet Kate o' Belashanny, O!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23"></a>[23]</span><span class="i0">My dear, give ear!—the river's near,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And if you think I'm shammin' now,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To end my grief I'll seek relief<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among the trout and salmon, now;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For shrimps and sharks to make their marks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And other watery vermin there;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unless a mermaid saves my life,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My wife, and me her merman there.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">From top to toe, where'er you go,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The loveliest girl of any, O,—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Mavrone! your mind I find unkind,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Sweet Kate o' Belashanny, O!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Tis all in vain that I complain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No use to coax or chide her there;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As far away from me as Spain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Although I stand beside her there.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O cruel Kate! since that's my fate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll look for love no more in you;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The seagull's screech as soon would reach<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your heart, as me implorin' you.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Tho' fair you are, and rare you are,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The loveliest flow'r of any, O,—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Too proud and high,—good-bye, say I,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To Kate o' Belashanny, O!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24"></a>[24]</span></p> +<h2><a name="FOUR_DUCKS_ON_A_POND" id="FOUR_DUCKS_ON_A_POND"></a>FOUR DUCKS ON A POND</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Four ducks on a pond,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A grass-bank beyond,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A blue sky of spring,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">White clouds on the wing;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What a little thing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To remember for years—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To remember with tears!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="AEOLIAN_HARP" id="AEOLIAN_HARP"></a>ÆOLIAN HARP</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What is it that is gone, we fancied ours?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh what is lost that never may be told?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We stray all afternoon, and we may grieve<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until the perfect closing of the night.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Listen to us, thou gray Autumnal Eve,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose part is silence. At thy verge the clouds<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are broken into melancholy gold;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The waifs of Autumn and the feeble flow'rs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glimmer along our woodlands in wet light;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Within thy shadow thou dost weave the shrouds<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of joy and great adventure, waxing cold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which once, or so it seemed, were full of might.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some power it was, that lives not with us now,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A thought we had, but could not, could not hold.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O sweetly, swiftly pass'd:—air sings and murmurs;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Green leaves are gathering on the dewy bough;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O sadly, swiftly pass'd:—air sighs and mutters;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25"></a>[25]</span> +<span class="i0">Red leaves are dropping on the rainy mould.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then comes the snow, unfeatured, vast, and white.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O what is gone from us, we fancied ours?—<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_MAIDS_OF_ELFIN-MERE" id="THE_MAIDS_OF_ELFIN-MERE"></a>THE MAIDS OF ELFIN-MERE</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When the spinning-room was here<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Came Three Damsels, clothed in white,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With their spindles every night;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One and Two and three fair Maidens,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spinning to a pulsing cadence,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Singing songs of Elfin-Mere;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till the eleventh hour was toll'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then departed through the wold.<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Years ago, and years ago;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the tall reeds sigh as the wind doth blow.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Three white Lilies, calm and clear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And they were loved by every one;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Most of all, the Pastor's Son,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Listening to their gentle singing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Felt his heart go from him, clinging<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Round these Maids of Elfin-Mere.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sued each night to make them stay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sadden'd when they went away.<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Years ago, and years ago;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the tall reeds sigh as the wind doth blow.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26"></a>[26]</span><span class="i0">Hands that shook with love and fear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dared put back the village clock,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flew the spindle, turn'd the rock,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flow'd the song with subtle rounding,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till the false 'eleven' was sounding;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then these Maids of Elfin-Mere<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swiftly, softly, left the room,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like three doves on snowy plume.<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Years ago, and years ago;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the tall reeds sigh as the wind doth blow.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">One that night who wander'd near<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heard lamentings by the shore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saw at dawn three stains of gore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the waters fade and dwindle.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Never more with song and spindle<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saw we Maids of Elfin-Mere,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Pastor's Son did pine and die;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Because true love should never lie.<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Years ago, and years ago;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the tall reeds sigh as the wind doth blow.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="TWILIGHT_VOICES" id="TWILIGHT_VOICES"></a>TWILIGHT VOICES</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now, at the hour when ignorant mortals<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drowse in the shade of their whirling sphere,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heaven and Hell from invisible portals<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Breathing comfort and ghastly fear,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Voices I hear;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27"></a>[27]</span> +<span class="i0">I hear strange voices, flitting, calling,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wavering by on the dusky blast,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Come, let us go, for the night is falling;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come, let us go, for the day is past!'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Troops of joys are they, now departed?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Winged hopes that no longer stay?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Guardian spirits grown weary-hearted?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Powers that have linger'd their latest day?<br /></span> +<span class="i6">What do they say?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What do they sing? I hear them calling,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whispering, gathering, flying fast,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Come, come, for the night is falling;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come, come, for the day is past!'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sing they to me?—'Thy taper's wasted;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mortal, thy sands of life run low;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thine hours like a flock of birds have hasted:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Time is ending;—we go, we go.'<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Sing they so?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mystical voices, floating, calling;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dim farewells—the last, the last?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come, come away, the night is falling;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Come, come away, the day is past.'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">See, I am ready, Twilight voices!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Child of the spirit-world am I;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28"></a>[28]</span> +<span class="i0">How should I fear you? my soul rejoices,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O speak plainer! O draw nigh!<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Fain would I fly!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tell me your message, Ye who are calling<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out of the dimness vague and vast;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lift me, take me,—the night is falling;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quick, let us go,—the day is past.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_LOVER_AND_BIRDS" id="THE_LOVER_AND_BIRDS"></a>THE LOVER AND BIRDS</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Within a budding grove,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In April's ear sang every bird his best,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But not a song to pleasure my unrest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or touch the tears unwept of bitter love;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some spake, methought, with pity, some as if in jest.<br /></span> +<span class="i12">To every word<br /></span> +<span class="i12">Of every bird<br /></span> +<span class="i8">I listen'd, and replied as it behove.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Scream'd Chaffinch, 'Sweet, sweet, sweet!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pretty lovey, come and meet me here!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Chaffinch,' quoth I, 'be dumb awhile, in fear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy darling prove no better than a cheat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And never come, or fly when wintry days appear.'<br /></span> +<span class="i12">Yet from a twig,<br /></span> +<span class="i12">With voice so big,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">The little fowl his utterance did repeat.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29"></a>[29]</span><span class="i8">Then I, 'The man forlorn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hears Earth send up a foolish noise aloft.'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'And what'll he do? What'll he do?' scoff'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Blackbird, standing, in an ancient thorn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then spread his sooty wings and flitted to the croft<br /></span> +<span class="i12">With cackling laugh;<br /></span> +<span class="i12">Whom I, being half<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Enraged, called after, giving back his scorn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Worse mock'd the Thrush, 'Die! die!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, could he do it? could he do it? Nay!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be quick! be quick! Here, here, here!' (went his lay.)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Take heed! take heed!' then 'Why? why? why? why? why?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See-ee now! see-ee now!' (he drawl'd) 'Back! back! back! R-r-r-run away!'<br /></span> +<span class="i12">O Thrush, be still!<br /></span> +<span class="i12">Or at thy will,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Seek some less sad interpreter than I.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">'Air, air! blue air and white!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whither I flee, whither, O whither, O whither I flee!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Thus the Lark hurried, mounting from the lea)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Hills, countries, many waters glittering bright,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whither I see, whither I see! deeper, deeper, deeper, whither I see, see, see!'<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30"></a>[30]</span> +<span class="i12">'Gay Lark,' I said,<br /></span> +<span class="i12">'The song that's bred<br /></span> +<span class="i8">In happy nest may well to heaven make flight.'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">'There's something, something sad,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I half remember'—piped a broken strain.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Well sung, sweet Robin! Robin sung again.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Spring's opening cheerily, cheerily! be we glad!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which moved, I wist not why, me melancholy mad,<br /></span> +<span class="i12">Till now, grown meek,<br /></span> +<span class="i12">With wetted cheek,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Most comforting and gentle thoughts I had.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_ABBOT_OF_INNISFALLEN" id="THE_ABBOT_OF_INNISFALLEN"></a>THE ABBOT OF INNISFALLEN</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Abbot of Innisfallen<br /></span> +<span class="i2">awoke ere dawn of day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under the dewy green leaves<br /></span> +<span class="i2">went he forth to pray.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lake around his island<br /></span> +<span class="i2">lay smooth and dark and deep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wrapt in a misty stillness<br /></span> +<span class="i2">the mountains were all asleep.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Low kneel'd the Abbot Cormac<br /></span> +<span class="i2">when the dawn was dim and gray;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The prayers of his holy office<br /></span> +<span class="i2">he faithfully 'gan say.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Low kneel'd the Abbot Cormac<br /></span> +<span class="i2">while the dawn was waxing red;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31"></a>[31]</span> +<span class="i0">And for his sins' forgiveness<br /></span> +<span class="i2">a solemn prayer he said:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Low kneel'd that holy Abbot<br /></span> +<span class="i2">while the dawn was waxing clear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he pray'd with loving-kindness<br /></span> +<span class="i2">for his convent-brethren dear.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Low kneel'd that blessed Abbot<br /></span> +<span class="i2">while the dawn was waxing bright;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He pray'd a great prayer for Ireland,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">he pray'd with all his might.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Low kneel'd that good old Father<br /></span> +<span class="i2">while the sun began to dart;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He pray'd a prayer for all men,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">he pray'd it from his heart.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His blissful soul was in Heaven,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">tho' a breathing man was he;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He was out of time's dominion,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">so far as the living may be.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Abbot of Innisfallen<br /></span> +<span class="i2">arose upon his feet;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He heard a small bird singing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">and O but it sung sweet!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It sung upon a holly-bush,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">this little snow-white bird;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A song so full of gladness<br /></span> +<span class="i2">he never before had heard.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32"></a>[32]</span> +<span class="i0">It sung upon a hazel,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">it sung upon a thorn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He had never heard such music<br /></span> +<span class="i2">since the hour that he was born.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It sung upon a sycamore,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">it sung upon a briar;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To follow the song and hearken<br /></span> +<span class="i2">this Abbot could never tire.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till at last he well bethought him;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">he might no longer stay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So he bless'd the little white singing-bird,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">and gladly went his way.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But, when he came to his Abbey,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">he found a wondrous change;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He saw no friendly faces there,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">for every face was strange.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The strange men spoke unto him;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">and he heard from all and each<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The foreign tongue of the Sassenach,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">not wholesome Irish speech.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then the oldest monk came forward,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">in Irish tongue spake he:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Thou wearest the holy Augustine's dress,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">and who hath given it to thee?'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'I wear the Augustine's dress,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">and Cormac is my name,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33"></a>[33]</span> +<span class="i0">The Abbot of this good Abbey<br /></span> +<span class="i2">by grace of God I am.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I went forth to pray, at the dawn of day;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">and when my prayers were said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I hearken'd awhile to a little bird,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">that sung above my head.'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The monks to him made answer,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Two hundred years have gone o'er,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since our Abbot Cormac went through the gate,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">and never was heard of more.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Matthias now is our Abbot,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">and twenty have pass'd away.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The stranger is lord of Ireland;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">we live in an evil day.'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Days will come and go,' he said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'and the world will pass away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Heaven a day is a thousand years,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">a thousand years are a day.'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Now give me absolution;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">for my time is come,' said he.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And they gave him absolution,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">as speedily as might be.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, close outside the window,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">the sweetest song they heard<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That ever yet since the world began<br /></span> +<span class="i2">was utter'd by any bird.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The monks look'd out and saw the bird,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">its feathers all white and clean;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34"></a>[34]</span> +<span class="i0">And there in a moment, beside it,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">another white bird was seen.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those two they sang together,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">waved their white wings, and fled;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flew aloft, and vanish'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">but the good old man was dead.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They buried his blessed body<br /></span> +<span class="i2">where lake and green-sward meet;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A carven cross above his head,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">a holly-bush at his feet;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where spreads the beautiful water<br /></span> +<span class="i2">to gay or cloudy skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the purple peaks of Killarney<br /></span> +<span class="i2">from ancient woods arise.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_RUINED_CHAPEL" id="THE_RUINED_CHAPEL"></a>THE RUINED CHAPEL</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">By the shore, a plot of ground<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clips a ruin'd chapel round,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Buttress'd with a grassy mound;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where Day and Night and Day go by,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bring no touch of human sound.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Washing of the lonely seas,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shaking of the guardian trees,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Piping of the salted breeze;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Day and Night and Day go by<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the endless tune of these.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35"></a>[35]</span><span class="i0">Or when, as winds and waters keep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A hush more dead than any sleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still morns to stiller evenings creep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Day and Night and Day go by;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here the silence is most deep.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The empty ruins, lapsed again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into Nature's wide domain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sow themselves with seed and grain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As Day and Night and Day go by;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hoard June's sun and April's rain.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Here fresh funeral tears were shed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now the graves are also dead;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And suckers from the ash-tree spread,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While Day and Night and Day go by;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And stars move calmly overhead.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<p class="endcomment"> +<br /><br /><br /><br /> +Here end sixteen poems, written by William Allingham, and +selected for re-printing by William Butler Yeats. Printed +upon paper made in Ireland, and published by Elizabeth Corbet +Yeats at the Dun Emer Press, in the house of Evelyn Gleeson +at Dundrum, in the county of Dublin, Ireland, finished on the +fifteenth day of September, in the year 1905. +</p> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Sixteen Poems, by William Allingham + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SIXTEEN POEMS *** + +***** This file should be named 16839-h.htm or 16839-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/8/3/16839/ + +Produced by David Starner, Sigal Alon 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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