 | Songs and Poems by George Sigerson |  |
6
PEASANT-PHILOSOPHER
Crippled and worn he was—a trunk
Of writhen Elder, gnarled and gray,
The muscles of his limbs were shrunk
And served no longer, where he lay.
Muscles and man were quick, of old,
But months went by, and nought would thrive
In pallid face, now growing cold,
Only the eyes appeared alive.
Of writhen Elder, gnarled and gray,
The muscles of his limbs were shrunk
And served no longer, where he lay.
Muscles and man were quick, of old,
But months went by, and nought would thrive
In pallid face, now growing cold,
Only the eyes appeared alive.
Living indeed!—two desert pools
Where twinkled still the setting sun,—
Against all laws of Fate and fools
They beamed, lit up with Irish fun.
“Going am I?—'Tis time to stir!—
One must not tire good company;
We just come for a cailey, Sir,
And then “good night” and go away.
Where twinkled still the setting sun,—
Against all laws of Fate and fools
They beamed, lit up with Irish fun.
“Going am I?—'Tis time to stir!—
One must not tire good company;
We just come for a cailey, Sir,
And then “good night” and go away.
| Songs and Poems by George Sigerson | |