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IRISH SONGS AND LYRICS 77 |
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The sacred trees stand in rainbow dew, Apple and ash and the twisted thorn,
Quicken and holly and dusky yew, Ancient ere ever gray Time was born.
The oak spreads mighty beneath the sun In a wonderful dazzle of moonlight green —
O would I might hasten from tasks undone, And journey whither no grief hath been !
Were I past the mountains of opal flame,
I would seek a couch of the king-fern brown,
And when from its seed glad slumber came, A flock of rare dreams would flutter down.
But I move without in an endless fret,
While somewhere beyond earth's brink, afar,
Forgotten of men, in a rose-rim set, I-Breasil shines like a beckoning star. |
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OUR ROAD
HERE is the road that you must climb with me, This road that winds between the hill and sea, And leads to where our quiet home shall be.
Love waits us there—not proud, nor kingly clad,
Oh ! just a little joyous country lad,
With tender wiles to make our tired hearts glad.
No barbed arrow doth he hold for us — But outstretched hands, divine and generous. Would all sad wayfarers were welcomed thus 1 |
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