The Adventures of Seumas Beg Part 2

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 gra.s.s 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 Ca.n.a.l 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 gra.s.s 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 p.o.o.p 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 sc.r.a.p 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 Sat.u.r.day.

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