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diff --git a/37214.txt b/37214.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..dafec8f --- /dev/null +++ b/37214.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1730 @@ +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: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ADVENTURES OF SEUMAS BEG *** + + + + +Produced by Al Haines + + + + + + + + + + +THE ADVENTURES OF SEUMAS BEG + + +THE ROCKY ROAD TO DUBLIN + + +BY + +JAMES STEPHENS + + + +AUTHOR OF + +'THE CHARWOMAN'S DAUGHTER,' 'THE HILL OF VISION,' + 'THE CROCK OF GOLD,' ETC. + + + + +MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED + +ST. MARTIN'S STREET, LONDON + +1915 + + + + +COPYRIGHT + + + + +CONTENTS + + +THE ADVENTURES OF SEUMAS BEG + + The Cherry Tree + Breakfast Time + In the Orchard + Day and Night + The Devil's Bag + A Visit from Abroad + The Wood of Flowers + The White Window + Midnight + Behind the Hill + The Secret + April Showers + The Turn of the Road + The Coral Island + The Cow + The Old Man + What the Snake saw + The Horse + The Apple Tree + The Appointment + Check + When I was Young + + +THE ROCKY ROAD TO DUBLIN + + The Patriot's Bed + Grafton Street + Portobello Bridge + York Street + The Fifteen Acres + College Green + Mount Street + Westland Row + The College of Science + The Canal Bank + By Ana Liffey + From Hawk and Kite + The Gombeen-man + Beresford Place + At the Fair + The Fur Coat + Dublin Men + O'Connell Bridge + Charlotte Street + George's Street + Holles Street + Katty Gollagher + Cork Hill + The Piper + The Shadow + Custom House Quay + Stephen's Green + The College of Surgeons + Merrion Square + The Bare Trees + Dunphy's Corner + The Dodder Bank + White Fields + The Paps of Dana + Donnelly's Orchard + Donnybrook + + + + + THE ADVENTURES OF SEUMAS BEG + + + + THE CHERRY TREE + + _Come from your bed my drowsy gentleman! + And you, fair lady, rise and braid your hair, + And let the children wash, if wash they can; + If not, assist you them, and make them fair + As is the morning and the morning sky, + And every tree and bush and bird in air._ + + _The sun climbed on the heights three hours ago, + He laughed above the hills and they were glad; + With bubbled pearl he made the rivers flow + And laced their mists in silver, and he clad + The meads in fragrant pomp of green and gold, + And bade the world forget it had been sad._ + + _So lift yourself, good sir! and you, sweet dame, + Unlash your evening eyes of pious grey; + Call on the children by each loved name, + And set them on the grass and let them play; + And play with them a while, and sing with them + Beneath the cherry bush a roundelay._ + + + + + BREAKFAST TIME + + The sun is always in the sky + Whenever I get out of bed, + And I often wonder why + It's never late.--My sister said + She did not know who did the trick, + And that she did not care a bit, + And I should eat my porridge quick. + ... I think it's mother wakens it. + + + + + IN THE ORCHARD + + There was a giant by the Orchard Wall + Peeping about on this side and on that, + And feeling in the trees: he was as tall + As the big apple tree, and twice as fat: + His beard was long, and bristly-black, and there + Were leaves and bits of grass stuck in his hair. + + He held a great big club in his right hand, + And with the other felt in every tree + For something that he wanted. You could stand + Beside him and not reach up to his knee + So mighty big he was--I feared he would + Turn round, and trample down to where I stood. + + I tried to get away, but, as I slid + Under a bush, he saw me, and he bent + Far down and said, "_Where is the Princess hid?_" + I pointed to a place, and off he went-- + But while he searched I turned and simply flew + Round by the lilac bushes back to you. + + + + + DAY AND NIGHT + + When the bright eyes of the day + Open on the dusk, to see + Mist and shadow fade away + And the sun shine merrily, + Then I leave my bed and run + Out to frolic in the sun. + + Through the sunny hours I play + Where the stream is wandering, + Plucking daisies by the way; + And I laugh and dance and sing, + While the birds fly here and there + Singing on the sunny air. + + When the night comes, cold and slow, + And the sad moon walks the sky, + When the whispering wind says "_Boh, + Little boy!_" and makes me cry, + By my mother I am led + Home again and put to bed. + + + + + THE DEVIL'S BAG + + I saw the Devil walking down the lane + Behind our house.--There was a heavy bag + Strapped tightly on his shoulders, and the rain + Sizzled when it hit him. He picked a rag + Up from the ground and put it in his sack, + And grinned and rubbed his hands. + There was a thing + Moving inside the bag upon his back-- + It must have been a soul! I saw it fling + And twist about inside, and not a hole + Or cranny for escape! Oh, it was sad! + I cried, and shouted out, "_Let out that soul!_" + But he turned round, and, sure, his face went mad, + And twisted up and down, and he said "_Hell!_" + And ran away.... Oh, mammy! I'm not well. + + + + + A VISIT FROM ABROAD + + A speck went blowing up against the sky + As little as a leaf: then it drew near + And broadened.--"It's a bird," said I, + And fetched my bow and arrows. It was queer! + It grew up from a speck into a blot, + And squattered past a cloud; then it flew down + All crumply, and waggled such a lot + I thought the thing would fall.--It was a brown + Old carpet where a man was sitting snug + Who, when he reached the ground, began to sew + A big hole in the middle of the rug, + And kept on peeping everywhere to know + Who might be coming--then he gave a twist + And flew away.... I fired at him but missed. + + + + + THE WOOD OF FLOWERS + + I went to the Wood of Flowers + (No one was with me); + I was there alone for hours. + I was happy as could be + In the Wood of Flowers. + + There was grass on the ground, + There were buds on the tree, + And the wind had a sound + Of such gaiety, + That I was as happy + As happy could be, + In the Wood of Flowers. + + + + + THE WHITE WINDOW + + The moon comes every night to peep + Through the window where I lie, + And I pretend to be asleep; + But I watch the moon as it goes by, + And it never makes a sound. + + It stands and stares, and then it goes + To the house that's next to me, + Stealing on its tippy-toes, + To peep at folk asleep maybe; + And it never makes a sound. + + + + + MIDNIGHT + + And then I wakened up in such a fright; + I thought I heard a movement in the room + But did not dare to look; I snuggled right + Down underneath the bedclothes--then the boom + Of a tremendous voice said, "_Sit up, lad, + And let me see your face._" So up I sat, + Although I didn't want to. I was glad + I did though, for it was an angel that + Had called me, and he said, he'd come to know + Was I the boy who wouldn't say his prayers + Nor do his sums, and that I'd have to go + Straight down to hell because of such affairs. + ... I said I'd be converted and do good + If he would let me off--he said he would. + + + + + BEHIND THE HILL + + Behind the hill I met a man in green + Who asked me if my mother had gone out? + I said she had. He asked me had I seen + His castle where the people sing and shout + From dawn to dark, and told me that he had + A crock of gold inside a hollow tree, + And I could have it.--I wanted money bad + To buy a sword with, and I thought that he + Would keep his solemn word; so, off we went. + He said he had a pound hid in the crock, + And owned the castle too, and paid no rent + To any one, and that you had to knock + Five hundred times. I asked, "_Who reckoned up?_" + And he said, "_You insulting little pup!_" + + + + + THE SECRET + + I was frightened, for a wind + Crept along the grass to say + Something that was in my mind + Yesterday-- + + Something that I did not know + Could be found out by the wind, + I had buried it so low + In my mind. + + + + + APRIL SHOWERS + + The leaves are fresh after the rain, + The air is cool and clear, + The sun is shining warm again, + The sparrows hopping in the lane + Are brisk and full of cheer. + + And that is why we dance and play, + And that is why we sing, + Calling out in voices gay, + We will not go to school to-day + Or learn anything: + + It is a happy thing, I say, + To be alive on such a day. + + + + + THE TURN OF THE ROAD + + I was playing with my hoop along the road + Just where the bushes are, when, suddenly, + There came a shout.--I ran away and stowed + Myself beneath a bush, and watched to see + What made the noise, and then, around the bend, + I saw a woman running. She was old + And wrinkle-faced, and had big teeth.--The end + Of her red shawl caught on a bush and rolled + Right off her, and her hair fell down.--Her face + Was awful white, and both her eyes looked sick, + And she was talking queer. "_O God of Grace!_" + Said she, "_where is the child?_" and flew back quick + The way she came, and screamed, and shook her hands; + ... Maybe she was a witch from foreign lands. + + + + + THE CORAL ISLAND + + His arms were round a chest of oaken wood, + It was clamped with brass and iron studs, and seemed + An awful weight. After a while he stood + And I stole near to him.--His white eyes gleamed + As he peeped secretly about; he laid + The oaken chest upon the ground, then drew + A great knife from his belt, and stuck the blade + Into the ground and dug. The clay soon flew + In all directions underneath a tree, + And when the hole was deep he put the box + Down there, and threw the clay back cunningly, + Stamping the ground quite flat; then like a fox + He crept among the trees.... I went next day + To dig the treasure up, but I lost my way. + + + + + THE COW + + Cow, Cow! + I and thou + Are looking at each other's eyes + You are lying on the grass + Eating every time I pass, + And you do not seem to be + Ever in perplexity: + You are good I'm sure, and not + Fit for nothing but the pot: + For your bearing is so kind, + And your quietness so wise: + Cow, Cow! + I and thou + Are looking at each other's eyes. + + + + + THE OLD MAN + + An old man sat beneath a tree + Alone; + So still was he + That, if he had been carved in stone, + He could not be + More quiet or more cold: + He was an ancient man + More than + A thousand ages old. + + + + + WHAT THE SNAKE SAW + + A little girl and a big ugly man + Went down the road. The girl was crying + And asking to go home, but when she ran + He hit her on the head and sent her flying, + And called her a young imp, and said he'd break + Her neck unless she went with him, and then + He smacked her on the cheek.--I was a snake + At that time crawling through a robber's den, + And diamonds were sticking to my tongue-- + (That's the best dodge), but when I saw the way + He beat the little girl I up and flung + A stone at him. My aim was bad that day + Because I hit the girl ... and she did sing! + But he jumped round and cursed like anything. + + + + + THE HORSE + + A sparrow hopped about the street, + And he was not a bit afraid; + He flew between a horse's feet, + And ate his supper undismayed: + I think myself the horse knew well + The bird came for the grains that fell. + + For his eye was looking down, + And he danced the corn about + In his nose-bag, till the brown + Grains of corn were tumbled out; + And I fancy that he said, + "Eat it up, young Speckle-Head!" + + The driver then came back again, + He climbed into the heavy dray; + And he tightened up the rein, + Cracked his whip and drove away. + But when the horse's ribs were hit, + The sparrow did not care a bit. + + + + + THE APPLE TREE + + I was hiding in the crooked apple tree, + Scouting for Indians, when a man came; + I thought it was an Indian, for he + Was running like the wind.--There was a flame + Of sunlight on his hand as he drew near, + And then I saw a knife gripped in his fist. + He panted like a horse; his eyes were queer, + Wide-open, staring frightfully, and, hist! + His mouth stared open like another eye, + And all his hair was matted down with sweat. + I crouched among the leaves for fear he'd spy + Where I was hiding, so he did not get + His awful eyes on me, but like the wind + He fled as if he heard something behind. + + + + + THE APPOINTMENT + + Tree! you are years standing there, + Gripping tight to the side of the hill, + And your branches are spread on the air, + While you stand so sad and so still, + And you do not complain + When you're wet with the rain, + Though I think you have often been ill. + + I would like (but it could not be done, + So you must not keep me to my word) + To take you away when the sun + Goes down, and the breezes are stirred, + And hug you in bed + With myself, till you said + That to sleep on a hill was absurd. + + O beautiful tree! when the night + Is dark, and the winds come and scold, + I would love then to cuddle you tight, + For I fear you will die of the cold; + But you are so tall, + And my bed is so small, + That it could not be done, I am told. + + My mother is calling for me, + And the baby is wanting to play, + I shall have to go home now, you see, + But I'll give you a kiss if I may: + I would stay if I could, + But a child must be good, + So I must, darling tree, go away. + + I will leave you my pencil and slate, + And this little pin from my frock; + But now I must go, for it's late, + And my mother is rattling the lock: + So good-bye, darling dear, + I'll come back, never fear, + In the morning at seven o'clock. + + + + + CHECK + + The night was creeping on the ground; + She crept and did not make a sound + Until she reached the tree, and then + She covered it, and stole again + Along the grass beside the wall. + + I heard the rustle of her shawl + As she threw blackness everywhere + Upon the sky and ground and air, + And in the room where I was hid: + But no matter what she did + To everything that was without, + She could not put my candle out. + + So I stared at the night, and she + Stared back solemnly at me. + + + + + WHEN I WAS YOUNG + + I will not know when I am dead + If sun or moon is overhead; + I'll stretch out flat without a sound + Inside a box beneath the ground, + And never rise again to see + Branches lifting on a tree, + Nor hear the song the finches sing + In the spring. + + I'll not, while sunny ages go, + Lift a hand or wag a toe; + But in a wooden box will be + Hidden for eternity + From sea and sun, from sight and sound, + From touch of people, voice of friend, + From all that makes my heart to bound, + Denying such an end: + It is so strange--I wonder why + People die! + + + + + THE ROCKY ROAD TO DUBLIN + + + + THE PATRIOT'S BED + + When a son you shall desire, + Pray to water and to fire; + But when you would have a daughter, + Pray to fire and then to water. + + + + + GRAFTON STREET + + At four o'clock, in dainty talk, + Lords and lovely ladies walk, + With a gentle dignity, + From the Green to Trinity. + + And at five o'clock they take, + In a Cafe, tea and cake, + Then they call a carriage, and + Drive back into fairyland. + + + + + PORTOBELLO BRIDGE + + Silver stars shine peacefully, + The Canal is silver, the + Poplars bear with modest grace + Gossamers of silver lace, + And the turf bank wears with glee + Black and silver filigree. + + + + + YORK STREET + + If in winter you shall drive + Birds from crumbs, you shall not thrive; + But if you feed them, they will fly + To sing it sweetly on the sky. + + So throw up the window, and + Scatter with a lavish hand, + Taking care you do not spill + Flower-pots from the window-sill, + + Singing, "Ireland shall be free + From the centre to the sea"; + Singing bravely once again, + "We are Dan O'Connell's Men." + + + + + THE FIFTEEN ACRES + + I cling and swing + On a branch, or sing + Through the cool, clear hush of Morning, O: + Or fling my wing + On the air, and bring + To sleepier birds a warning, O: + That the night's in flight, + And the sun's in sight, + And the dew is the grass adorning, O: + And the green leaves swing + As I sing, sing, sing, + Up by the river, + Down the dell, + To the little wee nest, + Where the big tree fell, + So early in the morning, O. + + I flit and twit + In the sun for a bit + When his light so bright is shining, O: + Or sit and fit + My plumes, or knit + Straw plaits for the nest's nice lining, O: + And she with glee + Shows unto me + Underneath her wings reclining, O: + And I sing that Peg + Has an egg, egg, egg, + Up by the oat-field, + Round the mill, + Past the meadow, + Down the hill, + So early in the morning, O. + + I stoop and swoop + On the air, or loop + Through the trees, and then go soaring, O + To group with a troop + On the gusty poop + While the wind behind is roaring, O: + I skim and swim + By a cloud's red rim + And up to the azure flooring, O: + And my wide wings drip + As I slip, slip, slip + Down through the rain-drops, + Back where Peg + Broods in the nest + On the little white egg, + So early in the morning, O. + + + + + COLLEGE GREEN + + When you meet an ancient man, + Be as silent as you can; + So when old age comes to you, + Courtesies shall gather too. + + And King Billy's horse will start + From our street and from our heart, + When each Irishman shall be + Perfected in courtesy. + + + + + MOUNT STREET + + Here and there on the wings of night + A fleck of blue and purple light, + A scrap of cloud, a bird, a star, + A comet hurrying afar + On the abyss, and the moon + Standing in her silver shoon. + + On the summit of the sky, + Delicate and proud and high, + The silver moon on a silver sea + Spins her silver broidery + While the stars send down a light + Here and there on the wings of night. + + + + + WESTLAND ROW + + Every Sunday there's a throng + Of pretty girls, who trot along + In a pious, breathless state + (They are nearly always late) + To the Chapel, where they pray + For the sins of Saturday. + + They have frocks of white and blue, + Yellow sashes they have too, + And red ribbons show each head + Tenderly is ringleted; + And the bell rings loud, and the + Railway whistles urgently. + + After Chapel they will go, + Walking delicately slow, + Telling still how Father John + Is so good to look upon, + And such other grave affairs + As they thought of during prayers. + + + + + THE COLLEGE OF SCIENCE + + Who knows a thing and will not tell + Shall spend eternity in hell; + But he who learns and teaches free + In heaven spends eternity. + + Around the Leinster Lawn we go + Into Molesworth Street, and so + To Saint Stephen's Green, where we + Hang a banner on a tree. + + + + + THE CANAL BANK + + I know a girl, + And a girl knows me, + And the owl says, what? + And the owl says, who? + But what we know + We both agree + That nobody else + Shall hear or see, + It's all between + Herself and me: + To wit? said the owl, + To woo, said I, + To-what, to-wit, to-woo! + + + + + BY ANA LIFFEY + + If you come to live with me, + I will sing so heartily + In your honour that you will + Stay to wonder at my skill. + + In your honour I will fill + The world with songs of triumph, till + You and I and Time are old + Pipers of the Age of Gold. + + Time and you and I will hold, + Everywhere by field and fold, + Concerts of content, and be + Known afar for jollity. + + Everywhere by fold and field + We will wander well-agreed; + So I sing right heartily, + Come along and live with me. + + + + + FROM HAWK AND KITE + + Poor, frightened, fluttered, silent one! + If we had seen your nest of clay + We would have passed it by, and gone, + Nor frightened you away. + + For there are others guard a nest + From hawk and kite and lurking foe, + And more despair is in their breast + Than you can ever know. + + Shield the nests where'er they be, + On the ground or on the tree; + Guard the poor from treachery. + + + + + THE GOMBEEN-MAN + + I put the sky into my pocket, + And the sea into my locket, + And into my breeches-band + I put the land. + + So I was trotting off to share, + Among my comrades in the lair, + Our profits, when a peeler came + And took my name. + + And now I'm in the County Gaol! + Will anybody be my bail? + Will anybody be my bail + And take me from the County Gaol? + + + + + BERESFORD PLACE + + The man who has and does not give + Shall break his neck, and cease to live; + But he who gives without a care + Shall gather rubies from the air. + + + + + AT THE FAIR + + The lark shall never come to say + To a gombeen-man, "Good day," + And the lark shall never cry + To a kindly man, "Good-bye." + + See the greedy gombeen-man + Taking everything he can + From man and woman, dog and cat-- + And the lark does not like that. + + + + + THE FUR COAT + + I walked out in my Coat of Pride, + I looked about on every side, + And said the mountains should not be + Just where they were, and that the sea + Was badly placed, and that the beech + Should be an oak--and then from each + I turned in dignity as if + They were not there: I sniffed a sniff, + And climbed upon my sunny shelf, + And sneezed a while, and scratched myself. + + + + + DUBLIN MEN + + A Dublin man will frown when he + Hears a tale of villainy; + But when a kindness you relate, + He swings and whistles on the gate. + + + + + O'CONNELL BRIDGE + + In Dublin town the people see + Gorgeous clouds sail gorgeously, + They are finer, I declare, + Than the clouds of anywhere. + + A swirl of blue and red and green, + A stream of blinding gold, a sheen + From silver hill and pearly ridge + Comes each evening on the bridge. + + So when you walk in a field, look down, + Lest you tramp on a daisy's crown, + But in a city look always high + And watch the beautiful clouds go by. + + + + + CHARLOTTE STREET + + Inside a soap shop, down a lane, + A big bee buzzed on a window-pane, + + Climbing the cold glass up and down; + Bee, what brought you into town? + + You are tired and hungry and scarce alive, + Poor old Shaggy-Tail! where's your hive? + + + + + GEORGE'S STREET + + Listen! if but women were + Half as kind as they are fair, + There would be an end to all + Miseries that do befall. + + Cloud and wind would run together + In a dance of sunny weather, + And the happy trees would throw + Gifts to travellers below. + + Then the lion, meek and mild, + With the lamb would, side by side, + Couch him friendly, and would be + Innocent of enmity. + + Then the Frozen Pole would go, + Tossing off his fields of snow, + And would shake delighted feet + With the girls of George's Street. + + These, if women only were + Half as kind as they are fair. + + + + + HOLLES STREET + + Through the air, + Everywhere, the rain is falling; + Brawling on house and tree: + On every place that you can see + The rain drops go; + The roofs are wet, the walls, the ground below. + + Midnight has come; + Now all the people stretch them blind and dumb + Each in a bed + Save I, who sit and listen overhead + Unto the rain + Splashing upon the roof and window-pane. + + Midnight! and I + Can get no sleep, nor can the sky. + + + + + KATTY GOLLAGHER + + The hill is bare: I only find + The grass, the sky, and one small tree + Tossing wildly on the wind; + And that is all there is to see: + A tree, a hill, a wind, a sky + Where nothing ever passes by. + + + + + CORK HILL + + Come all ye happy children, and + Gather round me hand in hand, + Dancing to the merry cry, + "See the Robbers Passing By." + + Past the Castle we will dance + To the Mansion House, and prance + Back by George's Street and cry, + "See the Robbers Passing By." + + Gather then ye children all + Into ranks processional, + Marching to the merry cry, + "See the Robbers Passing By." + + + + + THE PIPER + + Shepherd! while the lambs do feed, + And you rest beneath a tree, + Pipe upon an oaten reed + Merrily and merrily. + + Should it rain do not forbear-- + Rain comes from the happy sky-- + Tune us now a quiet air + Till the shower passes by. + + Back the sun will come in gold! + Pipe away, my dear, until + Evening brings the lambs to fold-- + You may weep then if you will. + + + + + THE SHADOW + + Silence comes upon the night, + Gone is all the cheerful day, + The moon has disappeared from sight, + Every star has gone away. + + Sinking through the void, and thence + Disappearing, star and sky, + In the stern and black immense + That has blinded every eye. + + Silence crouches on the land, + In the street a shadow lies + Cloaked in velvet wrappings, and + With a mask upon her eyes. + + Anonymous and terrible + Mother of the primal ray, + Only night because thou art + In thyself excess of day. + + + + + CUSTOM HOUSE QUAY + + When a Dublin man shall say, + "Give me a little bread, I pray," + If you do not give him bread + You will be hungry when he is fed. + + And let no priest or magistrate + Scowl upon the poor man's plate, + Asking him the question sly + To which no one can reply. + + + + + STEPHEN'S GREEN + + The wind stood up and gave a shout; + He whistled on his fingers, and + Kicked the withered leaves about + And thumped the branches with his hand, + And said he'd kill, and kill, and kill, + And so he will, and so he will. + + + + + THE COLLEGE OF SURGEONS + + As I stood at the door + Sheltered out of the wind, + Something flew in + Which I hardly could find. + + In the dim, gloomy doorway + I searched till I found + A dry withered leaf + Lying down on the ground. + + With thin, pointed claws + And a dry dusty skin,-- + Sure a hall is no place + For a leaf to be in! + + Oh where is your tree, + And your summer and all, + Poor dusty leaf + Whistled into a hall? + + + + + MERRION SQUARE + + Grey clouds on the tinted sky, + A drifting moon, a quiet breeze + Drooping mournfully to cry + In the branches of the trees. + + The crying wind, the sighing trees, + The ruffled stars, the darkness falling + Down the sky, and on the breeze + A belated linnet calling. + + + + + THE BARE TREES + + Unfortunates, on the bare tree! + I mourn for ye + That have no place to house, + But on those winter-white cold boughs + To sit, + (How far apart ye sit) + And brood + In this wide, wintry solitude + That has no song at all to hearten it. + + Fly away, little birds! + Fly away to Spain, + Stay there all the winter + Then come back again; + Come back in the summer + When the leaves are thick; + Little weeny cold birds + Fly away quick. + + + + + DUNPHY'S CORNER + + Pacing slowly down the road + Black horses go, with load on load + Of Dublin people dead, and they + Will be covered up in clay. + + Ere their friends go home, each man + Will shake his head, and drain a can + To Dublin people we will meet + Not again in Grafton Street. + + + + + THE DODDER BANK + + When no flower is nigh, you might + Spy a weed with deep delight; + So, when far from saints and bliss, + God might give a sin a kiss. + + + + + WHITE FIELDS + + In the winter children go + Walking in the fields of snow + Where there is no grass at all, + And the top of every wall, + Every fence, and every tree + Is as white as white can be. + + Pointing out the way they came, + (Every one of them the same) + All across the fields there be + Prints in silver filigree; + And their mothers find them so + By the footprints in the snow. + + + + + THE PAPS OF DANA + + The mountains stand and stare around, + They are far too proud to speak; + Altho' they're rooted in the ground, + Up they go, peak after peak, + Beyond the tallest tree, and still + Soaring over house and hill + Until you'd think they'd never stop + Going up, top over top, + Into the clouds-- + Still I mark + That a sparrow or a lark + Flying just as high, can sing + As if he'd not done anything. + + I think the mountains ought to be + Taught a little modesty. + + + + + DONNELLY'S ORCHARD + + He who locks a gate doth close + Pity's heart against his woes; + But who opens one shall find + God is standing just behind. + + + + + DONNYBROOK + + I saw the moon so broad and bright + Sailing high on a frosty night: + + And the air swung far and far between + The silver disc and the orb of green: + + While here and there a wisp of white + Cloud-film swam on the misty light: + + And crusted thickly on the sky, + High and higher and yet more high, + + Were golden star-points dusted through + The great, wide, silent vault of blue: + + Then I said to me--God is good + And the world is fair--and where I stood + + I knelt me down and bent my head, + And said my prayers, and went to bed. + + + + + THE END + + + + + _Printed by_ R. & R. CLARK, LIMITED, _Edinburgh._ + + + + +_BY THE SAME AUTHOR._ + + +THE CROCK OF GOLD. Crown 8vo. 5s. net. + +_THE PALL MALL GAZETTE_.--"A wise, beautiful, and humorous book.... If +you could have given Sterne a soul and made him a poet he might have +produced _The Crock of Gold_." + + +THE DEMI-GODS. Crown 8vo. 5s. net. + +_STANDARD_.--"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 _Crock of Gold_ was not a mere _tour de force_, but a real +ebullition of genius and a token of all the good work that was to come." + + +HERE ARE LADIES. Crown 8vo. 5s. net. + +_THE TIMES_.--"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 +_Here are Ladies_, the sketches, essays, snapshots, call them what you +will, will leave him for the most part happy and hungry--for more." + + +THE CHARWOMAN'S DAUGHTER. Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d. net. + +_PUNCH_.--"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." + + +SONGS FROM THE CLAY. Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d. net. + +_EVENING STANDARD_.--"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." + + +MACMILLAN AND CO., LTD., LONDON. + + + + + + + + + + + +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.txt or 37214.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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