 | Dirge for Aoine and other poems |  |
ix
WINDS
The wind came crying from the East,
And blew the churchyard-grass aside
As if to read forgotten names.
It tossed the very altar-flames,
And like a mourning woman cried
Whose sorrow will not be denied;
Then in the sea-caves sank and ceased.
And blew the churchyard-grass aside
As if to read forgotten names.
It tossed the very altar-flames,
And like a mourning woman cried
Whose sorrow will not be denied;
Then in the sea-caves sank and ceased.
The wind came singing from the West
And through the formal gardens ranged,
And suddenly they all were changed.
He entered in the rose's breast,
Like any bee, and, murmuring there,
Sent a new music through the air:
Then, in mid-sweetness, fell to rest.
And through the formal gardens ranged,
And suddenly they all were changed.
He entered in the rose's breast,
Like any bee, and, murmuring there,
Sent a new music through the air:
Then, in mid-sweetness, fell to rest.
The wind came shouting from the North
As some armed warrior might come forth
Eager to slay, or to be slain.
He tore the last leaves from the tree
And sped them shuddering o'er the plain;
He called to heel the angry sea,
And lashed it with his scourge of rain.
As some armed warrior might come forth
Eager to slay, or to be slain.
He tore the last leaves from the tree
And sped them shuddering o'er the plain;
He called to heel the angry sea,
And lashed it with his scourge of rain.
The wind came sighing from the South,
His hair a cloud, a rose his mouth;
His eyes beneath the level brows
Were shadowy as forest boughs;
His voice was like a song one hears
In childhood, lost for many years,
Heard first with laughter, last with tears.
His hair a cloud, a rose his mouth;
x
Were shadowy as forest boughs;
His voice was like a song one hears
In childhood, lost for many years,
Heard first with laughter, last with tears.
| Dirge for Aoine and other poems | |