 | Herb o' Grace |  |
94
EVENING
(In Connaught)
Gold from the edges of the horizon flowing,
A great and golden sea:
The light's spilled out of heaven and flowing, growing
A gold immensity.
A great and golden sea:
The light's spilled out of heaven and flowing, growing
A gold immensity.
The sea-bird now has gotten a golden feather,
Gold are the Hundred Isles,
Gold the white cabin like a cloud at tether
Where the long evening smiles.
Gold are the Hundred Isles,
Gold the white cabin like a cloud at tether
Where the long evening smiles.
The water-bird floats on the golden water,
Golden her wings and crest
As she were Fionnuala, the King's daughter,
Preening a golden breast.
Golden her wings and crest
As she were Fionnuala, the King's daughter,
Preening a golden breast.
The bog-pools now are fringed with golden lances,
The bog-cotton's aflame;
Gold are the mountains that were purple as pansies,
Since the wild heather came.
The bog-cotton's aflame;
Gold are the mountains that were purple as pansies,
Since the wild heather came.
95
Oh, Heaven's o'er-arched with gold, that washing, flooding,
Drenches, with golden rain
The Dark Rose in her splendour, dreaming, brooding,
That she is crowned again.
Drenches, with golden rain
The Dark Rose in her splendour, dreaming, brooding,
That she is crowned again.
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