Bog-land Studies By J. Barlow: 3rd ed |
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 | Bog-land Studies |  |
II
An' wanst we were restin' a bit in the sun on the
smooth hillside,
Where the grass felt warm to your hand as the fleece of a sheep, for wide
As ye'd look overhead an' around, 'twas all a-blaze
and a-glow,
An' the blue was blinkin' up from the blackest bog-holes below;
An' the scent o' the bogmint was sthrong on the air, an' never a sound
But the plover's pipe that ye'll seldom miss by a lone bit o' ground.
Where the grass felt warm to your hand as the fleece of a sheep, for wide
47
An' the blue was blinkin' up from the blackest bog-holes below;
An' the scent o' the bogmint was sthrong on the air, an' never a sound
But the plover's pipe that ye'll seldom miss by a lone bit o' ground.
An' he laned—Misther Pierce—on his elbow, an'
stared at the sky as he smoked,
Till just in an idle way he sthretched out his hand an' sthroked
The feathers o' wan of the snipe that was kilt an' lay close by on the grass;
An' there was the death in the crathur's eyes like a breath upon glass.
Till just in an idle way he sthretched out his hand an' sthroked
The feathers o' wan of the snipe that was kilt an' lay close by on the grass;
An' there was the death in the crathur's eyes like a breath upon glass.
An' sez he: ‘It's quare to think that a hole ye
might bore wid a pin
'Ill be wide enough to let such a power o' darkness in
On such a power o' light; an' it's quarer to think,’
sez he,
‘That wan o' these days the like is bound to happen to you an' me.’
'Ill be wide enough to let such a power o' darkness in
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‘That wan o' these days the like is bound to happen to you an' me.’
Thin Misther Barry, he sez: ‘Musha, how's wan
to know but there's light
On t' other side o' the dark, as the day comes afther the night?’
An' ‘Och,’ sez Misther Pierce, ‘what more's our knowin'—save the mark—
Than guessin' which way the chances run, an' thinks I they run to the dark;
Or elseagin now some glint of a bame'd ha' come slithered an' slid;
Sure light's not aisy to hide, an' what for should it be hid?’
Up he stood wid a sort o' laugh; ‘If on light,’ sez he, ‘ye're set,
Let's make the most o' this same, as it's all that we're like to get.’
On t' other side o' the dark, as the day comes afther the night?’
An' ‘Och,’ sez Misther Pierce, ‘what more's our knowin'—save the mark—
Than guessin' which way the chances run, an' thinks I they run to the dark;
Or elseagin now some glint of a bame'd ha' come slithered an' slid;
Sure light's not aisy to hide, an' what for should it be hid?’
Up he stood wid a sort o' laugh; ‘If on light,’ sez he, ‘ye're set,
Let's make the most o' this same, as it's all that we're like to get.’
| Bog-land Studies | |