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قراءة كتاب Sprays of Shamrock
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اللغة: English
الصفحة رقم: 7
class="i2">Even they must pale and pass
Like the prismy dews of dawning
On the heather and the grass!
[p 36]
THE WONDERS
I dream of the ancient wonders, of the isle of Hy Brasail
That rides through the mists of Mayo, then fades like a fading sail;
I dream of the ancient wonders, but there ’s one that haunts me more,
’T is the faun-like grace of Moira upon Lough Corib’s shore.
I dream of the ancient wonders, of the wells of Death and Life,
Of the voices of the Forest that quell both hate and strife;
I dream of the ancient wonders, but greater than them all
Is the luring laugh of Moira when day ’s at evenfall.
I dream of the ancient wonders, of the Cross caught up in air,
Of the swan of sweet Feale Water that was a maiden fair;
I dream of the ancient wonders, but each fades in eclipse
At the lifted arms of Moira, and Moira’s lifted lips!
[p 37]
AT MONAREE
When springtime comes to Monaree I know
How the blue hyacinths blow,
And how the daffodil lights its golden glow.
These blossoms are remembrancers of those
Who lie in long repose,
Lost to our earthly scenes of joys and woes,—
The saints of other days. How fair to see
These living emblems be
Of their good deeds—with spring at Monaree!
[p 38]
HEATHER SONG
Blue weather, blue weather abroad on the moors,
And the cry of the wind that elates and allures;
Sing “hey” and sing “ho” for the heather!
The brook in the bracken, it prattles and purls,
And the lips of the rose are as red as a girl’s;
Sing “hey” and sing “ho” for the heather!
And the path that leads up from the stile at the start
Is the path of my longing, the path of my heart;
Sing “hey” and sing “ho” for the heather!
For I know I shall find her, my fair heather-bell,
In the warm little dip at the crest of the fell,
And her smile, ah, the burden of love it will tell!
Sing “hey” and sing “ho” for the heather!
[p 39]
OFF CONNEMARA
Off the coast of Connemara,
Sailor, sailor, what ’s the hail?
“Dip the sail to Saint Macdara—
Dip the sail!”
So we dipped it as we tripped it
Southward with the fluting gale.
Long ago did Saint Macdara
Pass beyond this mortal pale;
Yet to-day off Connemara
Deeds of godliness avail;
Where the good old saint said masses
Every sailor, as he passes,
Dips the sail.
[p 40]
POPPIES AT MONASTERAVEN
As clear on my mind are graven
As the carving upon a shield
The poppies at Monasteraven,
And the cottage in the field;
The glint of a thick thorn coppice
Greenly girdling all,
And the glow of the scarlet poppies
Under the cottage wall!
Just a fleeting vision
Caught as I hurried by,
A little scene elysian
Under the morning sky.
For some one a happy haven,
It thus to my heart appealed,
The poppies at Monasteraven,
And the cottage in the field.
[p 41]
THE GLEN OF CASTLEMAINE
Oh, the shadows they lie deep in the glen of Castlemaine,
Purple as the gulfs of sleep, gray as are the drifts of rain!
Here are eerie feet that creep when the moon is on the wane.
In the glen of Castlemaine there are eldritch tongues that call;
And the little leaves have words that will hold the heart in thrall.
In the glen of Castlemaine there ’s a glamour over all.
For the fays have cast their spell o’er the glen of Castlemaine;
There is brooding wonder there, but no dream of blight or bane;
Here, if you have loved and lost, you may find your love again!
[p 42]
SONG
Just the sun on a slope of heather,
The long blue wind and the open sea;
All the cares of the world in tether,
And nobody there but you and me!
That ’s my wish in the golden weather;
Love, you echo the wish with me?
Come, then, ho, for the slope of heather,
The long blue wind and the open sea!
[p 43]
KILMELCHEDOR
Far removed from strife and war
Is the shrine of Kilmelchedor;
O’er one crumbling archway see
Clearly graven—Domine!
Master then and master still,
How we lean upon His will
Who forevermore will be
Unto all men—Domine!
[p 44]
AT DINGLE
At Dingle, upon sand and shingle,
Softly the ripples curve and creep;
Without the white-caps meet and mingle,
Without the breakers range and leap.
Here there is calm, here there is quiet,
And the sweet sense of long delay;
There time and