Dirge for Aoine and other poems :: :: University of Virginia Library

My cap is made of thistledown;
Woven of green grasses is my gown.
My veil is made of gossamer.
Butterflies fan me with their wings,
And many shy and timid things,
Covered in feathers or in fur,
Seek me for safety when the storm
Blows up; the hare forsakes her form
And in my shadow lieth warm.
The squirrel has no thought of fear,
He perches on my shoulder here
And cracks his nuts; and shrew-mice come
To do me suit and service dumb.
Once at Heaven's gate I sat all day
And sang and harped and would not cease.
I was too happy to know peace;
But now I walk a better way.
Now on the good green earth I dwell
And have sweet humble tasks to do,
To brim the foxglove's spotted bell
With honey, and to fill with dew
The honeysuckle's drinking horn,
Creamy and crimson. Every morn
I bid the buttercups arise
And open wide their golden eyes,

And every night I shake down sleep
On labouring lives. 'Tis mine to keep
Earth's little children safe and sound
And all the woodland holy ground.