Free Republic
Browse · Search
General/Chat
Topics · Post Article

To: jaycee; Aquamarine; beachn4fun; Billie; Diver Dave; DollyCali; dutchess; GodBlessUSA; JustAmy; ...


The Song Of Wandering Aengus



I WENT out to the hazel wood,
Because a fire was in my head,
And cut and peeled a hazel wand,
And hooked a berry to a thread;
And when white moths were on the wing,
And moth-like stars were flickering out,
I dropped the berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout.

When I had laid it on the floor
I went to blow the fire a-flame,
But something rustled on the floor,
And some one called me by my name:
It had become a glimmering girl
With apple blossom in her hair
Who called me by my name and ran
And faded through the brightening air.

Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.

William Butler Yeats

Lamh Foistenach Abu!
672 posted on 12/06/2008 8:49:58 AM PST by ConorMacNessa (HM/2 USN, 3/5 Marines, RVN 1969. St. Peregrine, patron saint of cancer patients, pray for us.)
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 670 | View Replies ]


To: ConorMacNessa


Red Hanrahan’s Song About Ireland



THE old brown thorn-trees break in two high over Cummen Strand,
Under a bitter black wind that blows from the left hand;
Our courage breaks like an old tree in a black wind and dies,
But we have hidden in our hearts the flame out of the eyes
Of Cathleen, the daughter of Houlihan.

The wind has bundled up the clouds high over Knocknarea,
And thrown the thunder on the stones for all that Maeve can say.
Angers that are like noisy clouds have set our hearts abeat;
But we have all bent low and low and kissed the quiet feet
Of Cathleen, the daughter of Houlihan.

The yellow pool has overflowed high up on Clooth-na-Bare,
For the wet winds are blowing out of the clinging air;
Like heavy flooded waters our bodies and our blood;
But purer than a tall candle before the Holy Rood
Is Cathleen, the daughter of Houlihan.

William Butler Yeats

Lamh Foistenach Abu!
673 posted on 12/06/2008 8:56:47 AM PST by ConorMacNessa (HM/2 USN, 3/5 Marines, RVN 1969. St. Peregrine, patron saint of cancer patients, pray for us.)
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 672 | View Replies ]

To: ConorMacNessa

Conor, I always enjoy your posted Yeats poetry. This one was wonderful and I also enjoyed the others you posted today!


715 posted on 12/06/2008 4:30:09 PM PST by jaycee ("God's love still stands when all else has fallen.")
[ Post Reply | Private Reply | To 672 | View Replies ]

Free Republic
Browse · Search
General/Chat
Topics · Post Article


FreeRepublic, LLC, PO BOX 9771, FRESNO, CA 93794
FreeRepublic.com is powered by software copyright 2000-2008 John Robinson