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قراءة كتاب Sprays of Shamrock
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اللغة: English
الصفحة رقم: 8
tide by winds that riot
Seem from their moorings swept away.
Which will you choose from life, my masters,—
Where waves are lulled to dream at ease,
Or, in the face of grim disasters,
To sail with daring down the seas?
[p 45]
BACK TO KILLARNEY
Oh, it ’s back to Killarney, the glow and the gleam of it,
Back to Killarney for me;
Back to Killarney, the vision and dream of it,
Back to Killarney, my own countrie!
Back to Killarney at sun or at shower-time,
Back to Killarney for me;
Back to Killarney at frost or at flower-time,
Back to Killarney, my own countrie!
Back to Killarney whose soil seems a part of me,
Back to Killarney for me;
Back to Killarney to soothe the sad heart of me,
Back to Killarney, my own countrie!
[p 46]
GLENCAR WATER
I stood by Glencar Water
When spring filled all the air,
And, oh, by Glencar Water
It ’s a lovely place to fare!
The song of Glencar Water
It has such silvery frets;
And there, by Glencar Water,
Are banks of violets.
But harsh seems Glencar Water
To Norah’s soft replies,
And the flowers by Glencar Water
Are naught to Norah’s eyes!
[p 47]
FROM DERRY TO KERRY
’Twixt Derry and Kerry there ’s many a mile;
They ’ve right men in Derry, no doubt;
But give me the Kerry man’s blarneying smile,
And give me the Kerry girl’s conjuring wile,
And lips, like a peach, in a pout!
And give me the sails tacking in to Tralee,
And the dip of the bluff Dingle bows,
And under Beenaman the surge of the sea,
The heathery slopes that are haunts for the bee
Where Carraghmore raises its brows!
From Derry to Kerry the leagues they are long
For a foot-weary rover to wend,
But I take the far track with a snatch of a song,
And a ready forgetting of aught that is wrong,
If Kerry ’s the goal at the end!
[p 48]
A KING IN KERRY
I dreamed a dream, mavourneen, I dreamed a dream yestreen,
That I was King in Kerry, and you were Galway’s Queen.
I roused and ranged about me three score of burnished spears,
And rode across the moorland, the north wind round my ears.
It bore me buoyant tidings,—your beauty and your grace,—
And, as I galloped forward, I yearned upon your face.
We fared by Abbeydorney, Listowel and Lixnaw,
Where all my word was wisdom, and all my look was law.
We never paused to bivouac; we never paused to sleep
Where murmurous Feale Water ran shallow or ran deep.
The blustering O’Brien who ruled the kerns of Claire.
Then, mire and foam-bespattered, about the dusk of day
We came where Galway’s turrets loomed over Galway’s bay.
The silence throbbed with trumpets, tumultuous, elate,
And you, a flower of wonder, bloomed in the castle gate.
You made the flush of sunset seem but a pallid thing;
Your voice had all the rapture that trembles through the spring.
Within your eyes the love-light was glory after drouth;
All summer’s hoarded honey was one kiss from your mouth.
Deirdre, whose tragic beauty the great Cuchullin knew,
And Maeve, the long lamented, sooth, what were they to you!
And when the wine was drunken there stood the stolèd priest.
He oped the holy bride-book; he read the marriage rite;
And then—and then—mavourneen, it was our wedding night!
Would I might dream it over, the dream I dreamed yestreen,
That I was King in Kerry, and you were Galway’s Queen!
[p 51]
A KERRY LAD
There ’s a Kerry lad a-wandering across the dipping sea,
A Kerry lad a-wandering the foam,
And oh, the swelling joy of it, the joy that there will be
When that wandering Kerry lad comes home!
There ’ll be glad voices calling him, glad voices in the street,
And hands to clasp the hands of the gossoon;
There ’ll be soft winds a-whispering above the fields of peat,
And little birds a-carolling in tune!
The Kerry sky ’ll be bluer then, for all the clouds will part,
And greener ’ll be the grass above the loam,
And oh, the happy feeling in one lonely Irish heart
When that wandering Kerry lad comes home!
[p 52]
A KERRY DAY
Under the sweep of a fell the smoke-reek curls and drifts
Where a white-walled cottage stands nestling amid the green;
Kerry skies above arched with their azure rifts
Where a glint of sun peeps through to brighten the peaceful scene.
Cattle stand at graze, and there are the piles of peat,
And there is the swift Feale Water rimpling, dimpling away;
And there are the cocks of hay, and the smell of the