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diff --git a/37214-h/37214-h.htm b/37214-h/37214-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..309200c --- /dev/null +++ b/37214-h/37214-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2308 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<HTML> +<HEAD> + +<META HTTP-EQUIV="Content-Type" CONTENT="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1"> + +<TITLE> +The Project Gutenberg E-text of The Adventures of Seumas Beg, by James Stephens +</TITLE> + +<STYLE TYPE="text/css"> +BODY { color: Black; + background: White; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; + text-align: justify } + +P {text-indent: 4% } + +P.noindent {text-indent: 0% } + +P.t1 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 200%; + text-align: center } + +P.t2 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 150%; + text-align: center } + +P.t3 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 100%; + text-align: center } + +P.t4 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 80%; + text-align: center } + +P.t5 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 50%; + text-align: center } + +P.poem {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; } + +P.letter {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +P.footnote {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 80%; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +P.transnote {text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 0% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +P.finis { font-size: larger ; + text-align: center ; + text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 0% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +</STYLE> + +</HEAD> + +<BODY> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's The Adventures of Seumas Beg, by James Stephens + +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 Adventures of Seumas Beg + The Rocky Road to Dublin + +Author: James Stephens + +Release Date: August 25, 2011 [EBook #37214] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ADVENTURES OF SEUMAS BEG *** + + + + +Produced by Al Haines + + + + + +</pre> + + +<BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="t1"> +THE ADVENTURES OF SEUMAS BEG +</P> + +<P CLASS="t2"> +THE ROCKY ROAD TO DUBLIN +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="t3"> +BY +</P> + +<P CLASS="t2"> +JAMES STEPHENS +</P> + +<BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="t4"> +AUTHOR OF +<BR> +'THE CHARWOMAN'S DAUGHTER,' 'THE HILL OF VISION,'<BR> +'THE CROCK OF GOLD,' ETC.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="t3"> +MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED +<BR> +ST. MARTIN'S STREET, LONDON +<BR> +1915 +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="t4"> +COPYRIGHT +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="t2"> +CONTENTS +</P> + +<P CLASS="t3"> +THE ADVENTURES OF SEUMAS BEG +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" STYLE="margin-left: 10%"> +<A HREF="#P3">The Cherry Tree</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P5">Breakfast Time</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P6">In the Orchard</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P8">Day and Night</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P10">The Devil's Bag</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P12">A Visit from Abroad</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P14">The Wood of Flowers</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P15">The White Window</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P16">Midnight</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P18">Behind the Hill</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P20">The Secret</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P21">April Showers</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P22">The Turn of the Road</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P24">The Coral Island</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P26">The Cow</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P27">The Old Man</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P28">What the Snake saw</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P30">The Horse</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P32">The Apple Tree</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P34">The Appointment</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P37">Check</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P38">When I was Young</A><BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="t3"> +THE ROCKY ROAD TO DUBLIN +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent" STYLE="margin-left: 10%"> +<A HREF="#P43">The Patriot's Bed</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P44">Grafton Street</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P45">Portobello Bridge</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P46">York Street</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P47">The Fifteen Acres</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P50">College Green</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P51">Mount Street</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P52">Westland Row</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P54">The College of Science</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P55">The Canal Bank</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P56">By Ana Liffey</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P58">From Hawk and Kite</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P59">The Gombeen-man</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P60">Beresford Place</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P61">At the Fair</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P62">The Fur Coat</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P63">Dublin Men</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P64">O'Connell Bridge</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P65">Charlotte Street</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P66">George's Street</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P68">Holles Street</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P69">Katty Gollagher</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P70">Cork Hill</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P71">The Piper</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P72">The Shadow</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P74">Custom House Quay</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P75">Stephen's Green</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P76">The College of Surgeons</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P78">Merrion Square</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P79">The Bare Trees</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P80">Dunphy's Corner</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P81">The Dodder Bank</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P82">White Fields</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P83">The Paps of Dana</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P84">Donnelly's Orchard</A><BR> +<A HREF="#P85">Donnybrook</A><BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P3"></A> + +<P CLASS="t2"> + THE ADVENTURES OF SEUMAS BEG +</P> + +<BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE CHERRY TREE<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +<I>Come from your bed my drowsy gentleman!<BR> + And you, fair lady, rise and braid your hair,<BR> +And let the children wash, if wash they can;<BR> + If not, assist you them, and make them fair<BR> +As is the morning and the morning sky,<BR> + And every tree and bush and bird in air.</I><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +<I>The sun climbed on the heights three hours ago,<BR> + He laughed above the hills and they were glad;<BR> +With bubbled pearl he made the rivers flow<BR> + And laced their mists in silver, and he clad<BR> +The meads in fragrant pomp of green and gold,<BR> + And bade the world forget it had been sad.</I><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +<I>So lift yourself, good sir! and you, sweet dame,<BR> + Unlash your evening eyes of pious grey;<BR> +Call on the children by each loved name,<BR> + And set them on the grass and let them play;<BR> +And play with them a while, and sing with them<BR> + Beneath the cherry bush a roundelay.</I><BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P5"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +BREAKFAST TIME<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The sun is always in the sky<BR> + Whenever I get out of bed,<BR> +And I often wonder why<BR> + It's never late.—My sister said<BR> +She did not know who did the trick,<BR> + And that she did not care a bit,<BR> +And I should eat my porridge quick.<BR> + ... I think it's mother wakens it.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P6"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +IN THE ORCHARD<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +There was a giant by the Orchard Wall<BR> + Peeping about on this side and on that,<BR> +And feeling in the trees: he was as tall<BR> + As the big apple tree, and twice as fat:<BR> +His beard was long, and bristly-black, and there<BR> +Were leaves and bits of grass stuck in his hair.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +He held a great big club in his right hand,<BR> + And with the other felt in every tree<BR> +For something that he wanted. You could stand<BR> + Beside him and not reach up to his knee<BR> +So mighty big he was—I feared he would<BR> +Turn round, and trample down to where I stood.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I tried to get away, but, as I slid<BR> + Under a bush, he saw me, and he bent<BR> +Far down and said, "<I>Where is the Princess hid?</I>"<BR> + I pointed to a place, and off he went—<BR> +But while he searched I turned and simply flew<BR> +Round by the lilac bushes back to you.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P8"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +DAY AND NIGHT<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +When the bright eyes of the day<BR> + Open on the dusk, to see<BR> +Mist and shadow fade away<BR> + And the sun shine merrily,<BR> +Then I leave my bed and run<BR> +Out to frolic in the sun.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Through the sunny hours I play<BR> + Where the stream is wandering,<BR> +Plucking daisies by the way;<BR> + And I laugh and dance and sing,<BR> +While the birds fly here and there<BR> +Singing on the sunny air.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +When the night comes, cold and slow,<BR> + And the sad moon walks the sky,<BR> +When the whispering wind says "<I>Boh,<BR> + Little boy!</I>" and makes me cry,<BR> +By my mother I am led<BR> +Home again and put to bed.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P10"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE DEVIL'S BAG<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I saw the Devil walking down the lane<BR> +Behind our house.—There was a heavy bag<BR> +Strapped tightly on his shoulders, and the rain<BR> +Sizzled when it hit him. He picked a rag<BR> +Up from the ground and put it in his sack,<BR> +And grinned and rubbed his hands.<BR> +There was a thing<BR> +Moving inside the bag upon his back—<BR> +It must have been a soul! I saw it fling<BR> +And twist about inside, and not a hole<BR> +Or cranny for escape! Oh, it was sad!<BR> +I cried, and shouted out, "<I>Let out that soul!</I>"<BR> +But he turned round, and, sure, his face went mad,<BR> +And twisted up and down, and he said "<I>Hell!</I>"<BR> +And ran away.... Oh, mammy! I'm not well.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P12"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +A VISIT FROM ABROAD<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +A speck went blowing up against the sky<BR> + As little as a leaf: then it drew near<BR> +And broadened.—"It's a bird," said I,<BR> + And fetched my bow and arrows. It was queer!<BR> +It grew up from a speck into a blot,<BR> +And squattered past a cloud; then it flew down<BR> +All crumply, and waggled such a lot<BR> + I thought the thing would fall.—It was a brown<BR> +Old carpet where a man was sitting snug<BR> + Who, when he reached the ground, began to sew<BR> +A big hole in the middle of the rug,<BR> + And kept on peeping everywhere to know<BR> +Who might be coming—then he gave a twist<BR> + And flew away.... I fired at him but missed.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P14"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE WOOD OF FLOWERS<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I went to the Wood of Flowers<BR> + (No one was with me);<BR> +I was there alone for hours.<BR> + I was happy as could be<BR> +In the Wood of Flowers.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +There was grass on the ground,<BR> + There were buds on the tree,<BR> +And the wind had a sound<BR> + Of such gaiety,<BR> +That I was as happy<BR> + As happy could be,<BR> +In the Wood of Flowers.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P15"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE WHITE WINDOW<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The moon comes every night to peep<BR> + Through the window where I lie,<BR> +And I pretend to be asleep;<BR> + But I watch the moon as it goes by,<BR> +And it never makes a sound.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +It stands and stares, and then it goes<BR> + To the house that's next to me,<BR> +Stealing on its tippy-toes,<BR> + To peep at folk asleep maybe;<BR> +And it never makes a sound.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P16"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +MIDNIGHT<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And then I wakened up in such a fright;<BR> + I thought I heard a movement in the room<BR> +But did not dare to look; I snuggled right<BR> + Down underneath the bedclothes—then the boom<BR> +Of a tremendous voice said, "<I>Sit up, lad,<BR> + And let me see your face.</I>" So up I sat,<BR> +Although I didn't want to. I was glad<BR> + I did though, for it was an angel that<BR> +Had called me, and he said, he'd come to know<BR> + Was I the boy who wouldn't say his prayers<BR> +Nor do his sums, and that I'd have to go<BR> + Straight down to hell because of such affairs.<BR> +... I said I'd be converted and do good<BR> + If he would let me off—he said he would.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P18"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +BEHIND THE HILL<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Behind the hill I met a man in green<BR> + Who asked me if my mother had gone out?<BR> +I said she had. He asked me had I seen<BR> + His castle where the people sing and shout<BR> +From dawn to dark, and told me that he had<BR> + A crock of gold inside a hollow tree,<BR> +And I could have it.—I wanted money bad<BR> + To buy a sword with, and I thought that he<BR> +Would keep his solemn word; so, off we went.<BR> + He said he had a pound hid in the crock,<BR> +And owned the castle too, and paid no rent<BR> + To any one, and that you had to knock<BR> +Five hundred times. I asked, "<I>Who reckoned up?</I>"<BR> +And he said, "<I>You insulting little pup!</I>"<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P20"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE SECRET<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I was frightened, for a wind<BR> + Crept along the grass to say<BR> +Something that was in my mind<BR> + Yesterday—<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Something that I did not know<BR> + Could be found out by the wind,<BR> +I had buried it so low<BR> + In my mind.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P21"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +APRIL SHOWERS<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The leaves are fresh after the rain,<BR> + The air is cool and clear,<BR> +The sun is shining warm again,<BR> + The sparrows hopping in the lane<BR> +Are brisk and full of cheer.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And that is why we dance and play,<BR> + And that is why we sing,<BR> +Calling out in voices gay,<BR> + We will not go to school to-day<BR> +Or learn anything:<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +It is a happy thing, I say,<BR> +To be alive on such a day.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P22"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE TURN OF THE ROAD<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I was playing with my hoop along the road<BR> + Just where the bushes are, when, suddenly,<BR> +There came a shout.—I ran away and stowed<BR> + Myself beneath a bush, and watched to see<BR> +What made the noise, and then, around the bend,<BR> + I saw a woman running. She was old<BR> +And wrinkle-faced, and had big teeth.—The end<BR> + Of her red shawl caught on a bush and rolled<BR> +Right off her, and her hair fell down.—Her face<BR> + Was awful white, and both her eyes looked sick,<BR> +And she was talking queer. "<I>O God of Grace!</I>"<BR> + Said she, "<I>where is the child?</I>" and flew back quick<BR> +The way she came, and screamed, and shook her hands;<BR> + ... Maybe she was a witch from foreign lands.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P24"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE CORAL ISLAND<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +His arms were round a chest of oaken wood,<BR> + It was clamped with brass and iron studs, and seemed<BR> +An awful weight. After a while he stood<BR> + And I stole near to him.—His white eyes gleamed<BR> +As he peeped secretly about; he laid<BR> + The oaken chest upon the ground, then drew<BR> +A great knife from his belt, and stuck the blade<BR> + Into the ground and dug. The clay soon flew<BR> +In all directions underneath a tree,<BR> + And when the hole was deep he put the box<BR> +Down there, and threw the clay back cunningly,<BR> + Stamping the ground quite flat; then like a fox<BR> +He crept among the trees.... I went next day<BR> +To dig the treasure up, but I lost my way.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P26"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE COW<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + Cow, Cow!<BR> + I and thou<BR> +Are looking at each other's eyes<BR> +You are lying on the grass<BR> +Eating every time I pass,<BR> +And you do not seem to be<BR> +Ever in perplexity:<BR> +You are good I'm sure, and not<BR> +Fit for nothing but the pot:<BR> +For your bearing is so kind,<BR> +And your quietness so wise:<BR> + Cow, Cow!<BR> + I and thou<BR> +Are looking at each other's eyes.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P27"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE OLD MAN<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +An old man sat beneath a tree<BR> + Alone;<BR> +So still was he<BR> + That, if he had been carved in stone,<BR> +He could not be<BR> + More quiet or more cold:<BR> +He was an ancient man<BR> + More than<BR> +A thousand ages old.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P28"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +WHAT THE SNAKE SAW<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +A little girl and a big ugly man<BR> + Went down the road. The girl was crying<BR> +And asking to go home, but when she ran<BR> + He hit her on the head and sent her flying,<BR> +And called her a young imp, and said he'd break<BR> + Her neck unless she went with him, and then<BR> +He smacked her on the cheek.—I was a snake<BR> + At that time crawling through a robber's den,<BR> +And diamonds were sticking to my tongue—<BR> + (That's the best dodge), but when I saw the way<BR> +He beat the little girl I up and flung<BR> + A stone at him. My aim was bad that day<BR> +Because I hit the girl ... and she did sing!<BR> +But he jumped round and cursed like anything.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P30"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE HORSE<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +A sparrow hopped about the street,<BR> + And he was not a bit afraid;<BR> +He flew between a horse's feet,<BR> + And ate his supper undismayed:<BR> +I think myself the horse knew well<BR> +The bird came for the grains that fell.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +For his eye was looking down,<BR> + And he danced the corn about<BR> +In his nose-bag, till the brown<BR> + Grains of corn were tumbled out;<BR> +And I fancy that he said,<BR> +"Eat it up, young Speckle-Head!"<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The driver then came back again,<BR> + He climbed into the heavy dray;<BR> +And he tightened up the rein,<BR> + Cracked his whip and drove away.<BR> +But when the horse's ribs were hit,<BR> +The sparrow did not care a bit.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P32"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE APPLE TREE<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I was hiding in the crooked apple tree,<BR> + Scouting for Indians, when a man came;<BR> +I thought it was an Indian, for he<BR> + Was running like the wind.—There was a flame<BR> +Of sunlight on his hand as he drew near,<BR> + And then I saw a knife gripped in his fist.<BR> +He panted like a horse; his eyes were queer,<BR> + Wide-open, staring frightfully, and, hist!<BR> +His mouth stared open like another eye,<BR> + And all his hair was matted down with sweat.<BR> +I crouched among the leaves for fear he'd spy<BR> + Where I was hiding, so he did not get<BR> +His awful eyes on me, but like the wind<BR> +He fled as if he heard something behind.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P34"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE APPOINTMENT<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Tree! you are years standing there,<BR> + Gripping tight to the side of the hill,<BR> +And your branches are spread on the air,<BR> + While you stand so sad and so still,<BR> + And you do not complain<BR> + When you're wet with the rain,<BR> + Though I think you have often been ill.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I would like (but it could not be done,<BR> + So you must not keep me to my word)<BR> +To take you away when the sun<BR> + Goes down, and the breezes are stirred,<BR> + And hug you in bed<BR> + With myself, till you said<BR> +That to sleep on a hill was absurd.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +O beautiful tree! when the night<BR> + Is dark, and the winds come and scold,<BR> +I would love then to cuddle you tight,<BR> + For I fear you will die of the cold;<BR> + But you are so tall,<BR> + And my bed is so small,<BR> +That it could not be done, I am told.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +My mother is calling for me,<BR> + And the baby is wanting to play,<BR> +I shall have to go home now, you see,<BR> + But I'll give you a kiss if I may:<BR> + I would stay if I could,<BR> + But a child must be good,<BR> +So I must, darling tree, go away.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I will leave you my pencil and slate,<BR> + And this little pin from my frock;<BR> +But now I must go, for it's late,<BR> + And my mother is rattling the lock:<BR> + So good-bye, darling dear,<BR> + I'll come back, never fear,<BR> +In the morning at seven o'clock.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P37"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHECK<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The night was creeping on the ground;<BR> +She crept and did not make a sound<BR> +Until she reached the tree, and then<BR> +She covered it, and stole again<BR> +Along the grass beside the wall.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I heard the rustle of her shawl<BR> +As she threw blackness everywhere<BR> +Upon the sky and ground and air,<BR> +And in the room where I was hid:<BR> +But no matter what she did<BR> +To everything that was without,<BR> +She could not put my candle out.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +So I stared at the night, and she<BR> +Stared back solemnly at me.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P38"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +WHEN I WAS YOUNG<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I will not know when I am dead<BR> +If sun or moon is overhead;<BR> +I'll stretch out flat without a sound<BR> +Inside a box beneath the ground,<BR> +And never rise again to see<BR> +Branches lifting on a tree,<BR> +Nor hear the song the finches sing<BR> +In the spring.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I'll not, while sunny ages go,<BR> +Lift a hand or wag a toe;<BR> +But in a wooden box will be<BR> +Hidden for eternity<BR> +From sea and sun, from sight and sound,<BR> +From touch of people, voice of friend,<BR> +From all that makes my heart to bound,<BR> +Denying such an end:<BR> +It is so strange—I wonder why<BR> +People die!<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P43"></A> + +<P CLASS="t2"> + THE ROCKY ROAD TO DUBLIN +</P> + +<BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE PATRIOT'S BED<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +When a son you shall desire,<BR> +Pray to water and to fire;<BR> +But when you would have a daughter,<BR> +Pray to fire and then to water.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P44"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +GRAFTON STREET<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +At four o'clock, in dainty talk,<BR> +Lords and lovely ladies walk,<BR> +With a gentle dignity,<BR> +From the Green to Trinity.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And at five o'clock they take,<BR> +In a Café, tea and cake,<BR> +Then they call a carriage, and<BR> +Drive back into fairyland.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P45"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +PORTOBELLO BRIDGE<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Silver stars shine peacefully,<BR> +The Canal is silver, the<BR> +Poplars bear with modest grace<BR> +Gossamers of silver lace,<BR> +And the turf bank wears with glee<BR> +Black and silver filigree.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P46"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +YORK STREET<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +If in winter you shall drive<BR> +Birds from crumbs, you shall not thrive;<BR> +But if you feed them, they will fly<BR> +To sing it sweetly on the sky.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +So throw up the window, and<BR> +Scatter with a lavish hand,<BR> +Taking care you do not spill<BR> +Flower-pots from the window-sill,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Singing, "Ireland shall be free<BR> +From the centre to the sea";<BR> +Singing bravely once again,<BR> +"We are Dan O'Connell's Men."<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P47"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE FIFTEEN ACRES<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + I cling and swing<BR> + On a branch, or sing<BR> +Through the cool, clear hush of Morning, O:<BR> + Or fling my wing<BR> + On the air, and bring<BR> +To sleepier birds a warning, O:<BR> + That the night's in flight,<BR> + And the sun's in sight,<BR> +And the dew is the grass adorning, O:<BR> + And the green leaves swing<BR> + As I sing, sing, sing,<BR> + Up by the river,<BR> + Down the dell,<BR> + To the little wee nest,<BR> + Where the big tree fell,<BR> + So early in the morning, O.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + I flit and twit<BR> + In the sun for a bit<BR> +When his light so bright is shining, O:<BR> + Or sit and fit<BR> + My plumes, or knit<BR> +Straw plaits for the nest's nice lining, O:<BR> + And she with glee<BR> + Shows unto me<BR> +Underneath her wings reclining, O:<BR> + And I sing that Peg<BR> + Has an egg, egg, egg,<BR> + Up by the oat-field,<BR> + Round the mill,<BR> + Past the meadow,<BR> + Down the hill,<BR> + So early in the morning, O.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + I stoop and swoop<BR> + On the air, or loop<BR> +Through the trees, and then go soaring, O<BR> + To group with a troop<BR> + On the gusty poop<BR> +While the wind behind is roaring, O:<BR> + I skim and swim<BR> + By a cloud's red rim<BR> +And up to the azure flooring, O:<BR> + And my wide wings drip<BR> + As I slip, slip, slip<BR> + Down through the rain-drops,<BR> + Back where Peg<BR> + Broods in the nest<BR> + On the little white egg,<BR> + So early in the morning, O.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P50"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +COLLEGE GREEN<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +When you meet an ancient man,<BR> +Be as silent as you can;<BR> +So when old age comes to you,<BR> +Courtesies shall gather too.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And King Billy's horse will start<BR> +From our street and from our heart,<BR> +When each Irishman shall be<BR> +Perfected in courtesy.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P51"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +MOUNT STREET<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Here and there on the wings of night<BR> +A fleck of blue and purple light,<BR> +A scrap of cloud, a bird, a star,<BR> +A comet hurrying afar<BR> +On the abyss, and the moon<BR> +Standing in her silver shoon.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +On the summit of the sky,<BR> +Delicate and proud and high,<BR> +The silver moon on a silver sea<BR> +Spins her silver broidery<BR> +While the stars send down a light<BR> +Here and there on the wings of night.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P52"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +WESTLAND ROW<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Every Sunday there's a throng<BR> +Of pretty girls, who trot along<BR> +In a pious, breathless state<BR> +(They are nearly always late)<BR> +To the Chapel, where they pray<BR> +For the sins of Saturday.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +They have frocks of white and blue,<BR> +Yellow sashes they have too,<BR> +And red ribbons show each head<BR> +Tenderly is ringleted;<BR> +And the bell rings loud, and the<BR> +Railway whistles urgently.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +After Chapel they will go,<BR> +Walking delicately slow,<BR> +Telling still how Father John<BR> +Is so good to look upon,<BR> +And such other grave affairs<BR> +As they thought of during prayers.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P54"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE COLLEGE OF SCIENCE<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Who knows a thing and will not tell<BR> +Shall spend eternity in hell;<BR> +But he who learns and teaches free<BR> +In heaven spends eternity.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Around the Leinster Lawn we go<BR> +Into Molesworth Street, and so<BR> +To Saint Stephen's Green, where we<BR> +Hang a banner on a tree.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P55"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE CANAL BANK<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I know a girl,<BR> + And a girl knows me,<BR> + And the owl says, what?<BR> + And the owl says, who?<BR> +But what we know<BR> + We both agree<BR> +That nobody else<BR> + Shall hear or see,<BR> +It's all between<BR> + Herself and me:<BR> + To wit? said the owl,<BR> + To woo, said I,<BR> + To-what, to-wit, to-woo!<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P56"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +BY ANA LIFFEY<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +If you come to live with me,<BR> +I will sing so heartily<BR> +In your honour that you will<BR> +Stay to wonder at my skill.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +In your honour I will fill<BR> +The world with songs of triumph, till<BR> +You and I and Time are old<BR> +Pipers of the Age of Gold.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Time and you and I will hold,<BR> +Everywhere by field and fold,<BR> +Concerts of content, and be<BR> +Known afar for jollity.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Everywhere by fold and field<BR> +We will wander well-agreed;<BR> +So I sing right heartily,<BR> +Come along and live with me.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P58"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +FROM HAWK AND KITE<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Poor, frightened, fluttered, silent one!<BR> + If we had seen your nest of clay<BR> +We would have passed it by, and gone,<BR> + Nor frightened you away.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +For there are others guard a nest<BR> + From hawk and kite and lurking foe,<BR> +And more despair is in their breast<BR> + Than you can ever know.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Shield the nests where'er they be,<BR> +On the ground or on the tree;<BR> +Guard the poor from treachery.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P59"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE GOMBEEN-MAN<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I put the sky into my pocket,<BR> +And the sea into my locket,<BR> +And into my breeches-band<BR> +I put the land.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +So I was trotting off to share,<BR> +Among my comrades in the lair,<BR> +Our profits, when a peeler came<BR> +And took my name.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And now I'm in the County Gaol!<BR> +Will anybody be my bail?<BR> +Will anybody be my bail<BR> +And take me from the County Gaol?<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P60"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +BERESFORD PLACE<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The man who has and does not give<BR> +Shall break his neck, and cease to live;<BR> +But he who gives without a care<BR> +Shall gather rubies from the air.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P61"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +AT THE FAIR<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The lark shall never come to say<BR> +To a gombeen-man, "Good day,"<BR> +And the lark shall never cry<BR> +To a kindly man, "Good-bye."<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +See the greedy gombeen-man<BR> +Taking everything he can<BR> +From man and woman, dog and cat—<BR> +And the lark does not like that.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P62"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE FUR COAT<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I walked out in my Coat of Pride,<BR> +I looked about on every side,<BR> +And said the mountains should not be<BR> +Just where they were, and that the sea<BR> +Was badly placed, and that the beech<BR> +Should be an oak—and then from each<BR> +I turned in dignity as if<BR> +They were not there: I sniffed a sniff,<BR> +And climbed upon my sunny shelf,<BR> +And sneezed a while, and scratched myself.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P63"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +DUBLIN MEN<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +A Dublin man will frown when he<BR> +Hears a tale of villainy;<BR> +But when a kindness you relate,<BR> +He swings and whistles on the gate.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P64"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +O'CONNELL BRIDGE<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +In Dublin town the people see<BR> +Gorgeous clouds sail gorgeously,<BR> +They are finer, I declare,<BR> +Than the clouds of anywhere.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +A swirl of blue and red and green,<BR> +A stream of blinding gold, a sheen<BR> +From silver hill and pearly ridge<BR> +Comes each evening on the bridge.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +So when you walk in a field, look down,<BR> +Lest you tramp on a daisy's crown,<BR> +But in a city look always high<BR> +And watch the beautiful clouds go by.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P65"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHARLOTTE STREET<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Inside a soap shop, down a lane,<BR> +A big bee buzzed on a window-pane,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Climbing the cold glass up and down;<BR> +Bee, what brought you into town?<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +You are tired and hungry and scarce alive,<BR> +Poor old Shaggy-Tail! where's your hive?<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P66"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +GEORGE'S STREET<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Listen! if but women were<BR> +Half as kind as they are fair,<BR> +There would be an end to all<BR> +Miseries that do befall.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Cloud and wind would run together<BR> +In a dance of sunny weather,<BR> +And the happy trees would throw<BR> +Gifts to travellers below.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Then the lion, meek and mild,<BR> +With the lamb would, side by side,<BR> +Couch him friendly, and would be<BR> +Innocent of enmity.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Then the Frozen Pole would go,<BR> +Tossing off his fields of snow,<BR> +And would shake delighted feet<BR> +With the girls of George's Street.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +These, if women only were<BR> +Half as kind as they are fair.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P68"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +HOLLES STREET<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Through the air,<BR> +Everywhere, the rain is falling;<BR> +Brawling on house and tree:<BR> +On every place that you can see<BR> +The rain drops go;<BR> +The roofs are wet, the walls, the ground below.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Midnight has come;<BR> +Now all the people stretch them blind and dumb<BR> +Each in a bed<BR> +Save I, who sit and listen overhead<BR> +Unto the rain<BR> +Splashing upon the roof and window-pane.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Midnight! and I<BR> +Can get no sleep, nor can the sky.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P69"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +KATTY GOLLAGHER<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The hill is bare: I only find<BR> + The grass, the sky, and one small tree<BR> +Tossing wildly on the wind;<BR> + And that is all there is to see:<BR> +A tree, a hill, a wind, a sky<BR> +Where nothing ever passes by.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P70"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CORK HILL<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Come all ye happy children, and<BR> +Gather round me hand in hand,<BR> +Dancing to the merry cry,<BR> +"See the Robbers Passing By."<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Past the Castle we will dance<BR> +To the Mansion House, and prance<BR> +Back by George's Street and cry,<BR> +"See the Robbers Passing By."<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Gather then ye children all<BR> +Into ranks processional,<BR> +Marching to the merry cry,<BR> +"See the Robbers Passing By."<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P71"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE PIPER<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Shepherd! while the lambs do feed,<BR> + And you rest beneath a tree,<BR> +Pipe upon an oaten reed<BR> + Merrily and merrily.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Should it rain do not forbear—<BR> + Rain comes from the happy sky—<BR> +Tune us now a quiet air<BR> + Till the shower passes by.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Back the sun will come in gold!<BR> + Pipe away, my dear, until<BR> +Evening brings the lambs to fold—<BR> + You may weep then if you will.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P72"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE SHADOW<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Silence comes upon the night,<BR> + Gone is all the cheerful day,<BR> +The moon has disappeared from sight,<BR> + Every star has gone away.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Sinking through the void, and thence<BR> + Disappearing, star and sky,<BR> +In the stern and black immense<BR> + That has blinded every eye.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Silence crouches on the land,<BR> + In the street a shadow lies<BR> +Cloaked in velvet wrappings, and<BR> + With a mask upon her eyes.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Anonymous and terrible<BR> + Mother of the primal ray,<BR> +Only night because thou art<BR> + In thyself excess of day.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P74"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CUSTOM HOUSE QUAY<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +When a Dublin man shall say,<BR> +"Give me a little bread, I pray,"<BR> +If you do not give him bread<BR> +You will be hungry when he is fed.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And let no priest or magistrate<BR> +Scowl upon the poor man's plate,<BR> +Asking him the question sly<BR> +To which no one can reply.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P75"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +STEPHEN'S GREEN<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The wind stood up and gave a shout;<BR> + He whistled on his fingers, and<BR> +Kicked the withered leaves about<BR> + And thumped the branches with his hand,<BR> +And said he'd kill, and kill, and kill,<BR> +And so he will, and so he will.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P76"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE COLLEGE OF SURGEONS<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +As I stood at the door<BR> + Sheltered out of the wind,<BR> +Something flew in<BR> + Which I hardly could find.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +In the dim, gloomy doorway<BR> + I searched till I found<BR> +A dry withered leaf<BR> + Lying down on the ground.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +With thin, pointed claws<BR> + And a dry dusty skin,—<BR> +Sure a hall is no place<BR> + For a leaf to be in!<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Oh where is your tree,<BR> + And your summer and all,<BR> +Poor dusty leaf<BR> + Whistled into a hall?<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P78"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +MERRION SQUARE<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Grey clouds on the tinted sky,<BR> +A drifting moon, a quiet breeze<BR> +Drooping mournfully to cry<BR> +In the branches of the trees.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The crying wind, the sighing trees,<BR> +The ruffled stars, the darkness falling<BR> +Down the sky, and on the breeze<BR> +A belated linnet calling.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P79"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE BARE TREES<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Unfortunates, on the bare tree!<BR> +I mourn for ye<BR> +That have no place to house,<BR> +But on those winter-white cold boughs<BR> + To sit,<BR> + (How far apart ye sit)<BR> +And brood<BR> +In this wide, wintry solitude<BR> + That has no song at all to hearten it.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Fly away, little birds!<BR> + Fly away to Spain,<BR> +Stay there all the winter<BR> + Then come back again;<BR> +Come back in the summer<BR> + When the leaves are thick;<BR> +Little weeny cold birds<BR> + Fly away quick.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P80"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +DUNPHY'S CORNER<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Pacing slowly down the road<BR> +Black horses go, with load on load<BR> +Of Dublin people dead, and they<BR> +Will be covered up in clay.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Ere their friends go home, each man<BR> +Will shake his head, and drain a can<BR> +To Dublin people we will meet<BR> +Not again in Grafton Street.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P81"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE DODDER BANK<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +When no flower is nigh, you might<BR> +Spy a weed with deep delight;<BR> +So, when far from saints and bliss,<BR> +God might give a sin a kiss.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P82"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +WHITE FIELDS<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +In the winter children go<BR> +Walking in the fields of snow<BR> +Where there is no grass at all,<BR> +And the top of every wall,<BR> +Every fence, and every tree<BR> +Is as white as white can be.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Pointing out the way they came,<BR> +(Every one of them the same)<BR> +All across the fields there be<BR> +Prints in silver filigree;<BR> +And their mothers find them so<BR> +By the footprints in the snow.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P83"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE PAPS OF DANA<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The mountains stand and stare around,<BR> + They are far too proud to speak;<BR> +Altho' they're rooted in the ground,<BR> + Up they go, peak after peak,<BR> +Beyond the tallest tree, and still<BR> + Soaring over house and hill<BR> +Until you'd think they'd never stop<BR> + Going up, top over top,<BR> +Into the clouds—<BR> + Still I mark<BR> + That a sparrow or a lark<BR> +Flying just as high, can sing<BR> + As if he'd not done anything.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I think the mountains ought to be<BR> +Taught a little modesty.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P84"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +DONNELLY'S ORCHARD<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +He who locks a gate doth close<BR> +Pity's heart against his woes;<BR> +But who opens one shall find<BR> +God is standing just behind.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="P85"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +DONNYBROOK<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I saw the moon so broad and bright<BR> +Sailing high on a frosty night:<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And the air swung far and far between<BR> +The silver disc and the orb of green:<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +While here and there a wisp of white<BR> +Cloud-film swam on the misty light:<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And crusted thickly on the sky,<BR> +High and higher and yet more high,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Were golden star-points dusted through<BR> +The great, wide, silent vault of blue:<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Then I said to me—God is good<BR> +And the world is fair—and where I stood<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I knelt me down and bent my head,<BR> +And said my prayers, and went to bed.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="finis"> +THE END<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="t4"> +<I>Printed by</I> R. & R. CLARK, LIMITED, <I>Edinburgh.</I><BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<HR> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap088"></A> + +<P CLASS="t2"> +<I>BY THE SAME AUTHOR.</I> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +THE CROCK OF GOLD. Crown 8vo. 5s. net. +</P> + +<P> +<I>THE PALL MALL GAZETTE</I>.—"A wise, beautiful, and humorous book.... If +you could have given Sterne a soul and made him a poet he might have +produced <I>The Crock of Gold</I>." +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +THE DEMI-GODS. Crown 8vo. 5s. net. +</P> + +<P> +<I>STANDARD</I>.—"The book is full of fine knowledge and fantasies in every +shade of gaiety and gravity, and we would call its author a magician +did we not feel that everything he writes is perfectly natural to +him.... This book would prove, if proof were needed, that Mr. +Stephens's <I>Crock of Gold</I> was not a mere <I>tour de force</I>, but a real +ebullition of genius and a token of all the good work that was to come." +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +HERE ARE LADIES. Crown 8vo. 5s. net. +</P> + +<P> +<I>THE TIMES</I>.—"A story may have many and diverse effects upon its +reader. It may leave him smiling, laughing, frowning (perhaps +weeping), angry, perplexed, exalted, afraid. The bits of stories in +<I>Here are Ladies</I>, the sketches, essays, snapshots, call them what you +will, will leave him for the most part happy and hungry—for more." +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +THE CHARWOMAN'S DAUGHTER. Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d. net. +</P> + +<P> +<I>PUNCH</I>.—"A little gem.... It is a very long time indeed since we +read such a human, satisfying book. Every page contains some happy +phrase or illuminating piece of character drawing." +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +SONGS FROM THE CLAY. Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d. net. +</P> + +<P> +<I>EVENING STANDARD</I>.—"They have the sense of elfin mischief and keen +spiritual sympathy with inarticulate nature which is so recognisable a +feature of all Mr. Stephens's writings, prose and verse. Many of the +poems are models of that simplicity which is the supreme art of poesy, +and in all may be found an underlying verity, masked may be with smiles +or tears." +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="t3"> +MACMILLAN AND CO., LTD., LONDON. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Adventures of Seumas Beg, by James Stephens + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ADVENTURES OF SEUMAS BEG *** + +***** This file should be named 37214-h.htm or 37214-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/7/2/1/37214/ + +Produced by Al Haines + +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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