 | Ghost-bereft |  |
120
A HEART-HAUNTED HOME
‘The heart-haunted home of the ever-faithful Gael.’
At Lisnamaine, since thither he comes no more,
'Tis but a-dream he sees where, little and lone,
The rough grey house sits like a boulder-stone
Fast by the foam-rimmed murmuring of the shore.
Only beyond black shadow across the floor
Yet glimmers red, as many a year agone,
More precious flame than ever bickering shone
From diamond's dew, or ruby's fiery core.
'Tis but a-dream he sees where, little and lone,
The rough grey house sits like a boulder-stone
Fast by the foam-rimmed murmuring of the shore.
Only beyond black shadow across the floor
Yet glimmers red, as many a year agone,
More precious flame than ever bickering shone
From diamond's dew, or ruby's fiery core.
And, Mary Mother, grant yon light may burn
At Lisnamaine till this poor son's return;
Or if in sooth he must not here behold
The bliss he counts long exile days to earn,
Ah, lest too late his dear hope's doom he learn,
Let so his eyes be dark, his heart be cold.
At Lisnamaine till this poor son's return;
121
The bliss he counts long exile days to earn,
Ah, lest too late his dear hope's doom he learn,
Let so his eyes be dark, his heart be cold.
| Ghost-bereft | |