 | Irish Poems |  |
95
THANKSGIVING
To May Sinclair
I thank God when I kneel to pray
That mine is still the middle way,
That mine is still the middle way,
Set in a safe and sweet estate
Between the little and the great;
Between the little and the great;
Not troubled with wealth's cares nor yet
Too poor where needs that cark and fret
Too poor where needs that cark and fret
Push out sweet leisure and green nooks,
And give no chance for talk and books.
And give no chance for talk and books.
I take my middle way between
The mansion and a lodging mean.
The mansion and a lodging mean.
My cottage at the country's edge
Hath sweetbriar growing in its hedge,
Hath sweetbriar growing in its hedge,
Honesty, heartsease and sweet-peas,
Herb-bennet, love-in-idleness.
Herb-bennet, love-in-idleness.
96
Give me a tree, a well, a hive,
And I can save my soul alive,
And I can save my soul alive,
Yet be as poor in spirit as
The Poverello's Lady was.
The Poverello's Lady was.
I covet not soft silk or lace
Nor any lovely lady's face;
Nor any lovely lady's face;
Nor yet would go in hodden grey;
But lawns and wool be my array.
But lawns and wool be my array.
I still may ask a friend to dine
And set him meat and pour him wine;
And set him meat and pour him wine;
Nor count the coins within my purse
To see that I am nothing worse.
To see that I am nothing worse.
I thank God that my middle place
Is set amid much pleasantness.
Is set amid much pleasantness.
And not too high and not too low
The safe, untroubled path I go.
The safe, untroubled path I go.
| Irish Poems | |