In Leinster

written by


« Reload image

I TRY to knead and spin, but my life is low the while.
Oh, I long to be alone, and walk abroad a mile;
Yet if I walk alone, and think of naught at all,
Why from me that ’s young should the wild tears fall?

The shower-stricken earth, the earth-colored streams,  
They breathe on me awake, and moan to me in dreams;
And yonder ivy fondling the broke castle-wall,
It pulls upon my heart till the wild tears fall.

The cabin-door looks down a furze-lighted hill,
And far as Leighlin Cross the fields are green and still;  
But once I hear the blackbird in Leighlin hedges call,
The foolishness is on me, and the wild tears fall!

© Louise Imogen Guiney