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IRISH SONGS AND LYRICS 219 |
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Wrestling with phantoms of thy own wild soul, Or, stone-still, silent, waiting for the dawn, I give my heart to thee, heroic land.
IV
I give my heart to thee, ideal land, Far-soaring sister of the starry throng.
0 fleet of wing, what journeyings are thine, What goal, what god attracts thee ? What unseen Glory reflected makes thy face a flame ?
Leave me not; where thou goest, let me go.
1 give my heart to thee, ideal land. |
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LOUGH BRAY
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OW Memory, false, spendthrift Memory, Disloyal treasure-keeper of the soul, This vision change shall never wring from thee Nor wasteful years effacing as they roll. O steel-blue lake, high cradled in the hills!
O sad waves, filled with little sobs and cries ! White glistening shingle, hiss of mountain rills, And granite-hearted walls blotting the skies, Shine, sob, gleam, gloom forever ! Oh, in me
Be what you are in Nature—a recess — To sadness dedicate and mystery,
Withdrawn, afar, in the soul's wilderness. Still let my thoughts, leaving the worldly roar Like pilgrims, wander on thy haunted shore. |
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