 | Dirge for Aoine and other poems |  |
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UNA OF THE WEST
(To Caroline Augusta Hopper)
It's “Una, Una, Una!”
The birds cry after me,
When I go back at sunset
Into my own country.
With “Una, Una, Una,”
They will not let me be.
The birds cry after me,
When I go back at sunset
Into my own country.
With “Una, Una, Una,”
They will not let me be.
With Druid leaves they crowned me
The mistress of the Shee,
East wind and west they gave me,
For hounds to follow me.
Mine are the yellow ragweeds,
And mine the quicken tree.
The mistress of the Shee,
East wind and west they gave me,
For hounds to follow me.
Mine are the yellow ragweeds,
And mine the quicken tree.
I teach the dreaming colleen
How she her love may win:
I wake old harps from silence
To wail for days of Fionn:
I make the long grass greener
That folds Saint Idé in.
How she her love may win:
I wake old harps from silence
To wail for days of Fionn:
I make the long grass greener
That folds Saint Idé in.
It's “Una, Una, Una,”
Birds sing and will not stay;
And not a plover whistles
Or lark dare greet the day
Until I come from westward
And bid the night away.
Birds sing and will not stay;
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Or lark dare greet the day
Until I come from westward
And bid the night away.
| Dirge for Aoine and other poems | |