The Mountainy Singer

Cover of book The Mountainy Singer
Categories: Fiction » Poetry

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ep, white love, sleep, A cedarn cradle holds thee, And twilight, like a silver-woven coverlid, Enfolds thee, Moon and star keep charmed watch Upon thy lying ; Vater plovers thro the dusk Are tremulously crying, Sleep, white love mine, Till day doth shine, Sleep, white love, sleep, The daylight wanes, and deeper Gathers the blue darkness O er the cradle of the sleeper, Cliodhna s curachs, carmine-oared, On Loch-da-linn are gleaming ; Blind bats flutter thro the night, And carrion birds are screaming, Sleep, white love mine, Till day doth shine, Sleep, white love, sleep, The holy mothers, Anne and Mary, Sit nigh in heaven, dreaming On the seven ends of Eire, Brigid sits beside them, Spinning lamb-white wool on whorls, Singing fragrant songs of love To little naked boys and girls, Slee|, white love mine, Till day doth shine, Twine the Mazes thro1 and thro Twine the mazes thro and thro' Over beach and margent pale; Not a Dawn aj|ears in view, Not a sail! Round about! In and out! Thro the stones and sandy bars To the music of the stars ! The asteroidal nre that dances Nightly in the northern blue, The brightest of the boreal lances, Dances not so light as you, Cliodhna ! Dances not so light as you, A Fighting-Man A fighting-man he was, Guts and soul ; His blood was hot and red As that on Cain s hand-towel, A cop£er-skinned six-footer, Hewn out of the rock, Vho would stand up against His hammer-knock? Not a sinner? No, and not one dared ! Giants snowed clean heels "When his arm was bared, I ve seen nim swing an anvil Fifty feet, Break a bough in two, And tear a twisted sheet, And the music of his roar? Like oaks in thunder cleaving Lijvs foam...

The Mountainy Singer
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