 | Dirge for Aoine and other poems |  |
xxxii
SILK OF THE KINE. II
(To Coulson Kernahan)
Silk o' the kine, it's long you've strayed away
Into the meadows thro' the twilight gray,
And though we stand and call when night is near
And draws the weary cattle homeward here,
You never come, nor any pishogue may
Bring you to us at dawning o' the day,
Silk o' the Kine.
Into the meadows thro' the twilight gray,
And though we stand and call when night is near
And draws the weary cattle homeward here,
You never come, nor any pishogue may
Bring you to us at dawning o' the day,
Silk o' the Kine.
Mannanan drives his cattle from the sea
At sundown, but no heart to watch have we
For thinking on our own that's strayed so far
Beyond the shining of the hunter's star,
For thinking on you and your silk coat fine,
Silk o' the Kine!
At sundown, but no heart to watch have we
For thinking on our own that's strayed so far
Beyond the shining of the hunter's star,
For thinking on you and your silk coat fine,
Silk o' the Kine!
We have no heart to heed the thrush's song,
The hound's deep note, the blackbird's fluting long
(The song Fionn loved at Derrycarn of streams).
Our hearts are wandering with you in our dreams,
Nor can we turn our sorrow into song.
My grief, my grief! we've missed you over-long,
Silk o' the Kine.
The hound's deep note, the blackbird's fluting long
(The song Fionn loved at Derrycarn of streams).
Our hearts are wandering with you in our dreams,
Nor can we turn our sorrow into song.
My grief, my grief! we've missed you over-long,
Silk o' the Kine.
| Dirge for Aoine and other poems | |