Dirge for Aoine and other poems by Nora Chesson [i.e. Nora Hopper] |
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 | Dirge for Aoine and other poems |  |
xxxiv
DALUA
If I 'm the faery fool, Dalua—
Ay me, the faery fool!—
How do I know what the rushes say,
Sighing and shivering night and day
Over their shadowy pool?
How do I know what the North wind cries,
Counting his beads of snow:
The menace that lies in the Hunter's eyes
How do I know?
Ay me, the faery fool!—
How do I know what the rushes say,
Sighing and shivering night and day
Over their shadowy pool?
How do I know what the North wind cries,
Counting his beads of snow:
The menace that lies in the Hunter's eyes
How do I know?
If I 'm the faery fool, Dalua—
Ay me, the faery fool!—
I cry to those that sent me here,
To laugh and jest, to geck and fleer,
To scorn at law and rule,
“Why did ye also give to me
Beauty and peace to know?
The ears to hear and the eyes to see
And the hands that let all go?”
Ay me, the faery fool!—
I cry to those that sent me here,
To laugh and jest, to geck and fleer,
To scorn at law and rule,
“Why did ye also give to me
Beauty and peace to know?
The ears to hear and the eyes to see
And the hands that let all go?”
I cry to them that bade me jest
“Why made ye me so slight,
Yet put a heart within my breast,
An evil gift, an evil guest,
To spoil me for delight?
Made for mere laughter, answer why
Must I have eyes for dool?
Take from me tears, or let me die,
For I am sick of wisdom, I
Dalua, the faery fool!”
“Why made ye me so slight,
Yet put a heart within my breast,
An evil gift, an evil guest,
To spoil me for delight?
xxxv
Must I have eyes for dool?
Take from me tears, or let me die,
For I am sick of wisdom, I
Dalua, the faery fool!”
| Dirge for Aoine and other poems | |