RED HANRAHAN'S SONG ABOUT IRELAND
by: William Butler Yeats
(1865-1939)
- HE 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.
"Red Hanrahan's Song about
Ireland" is reprinted from In the Seven Woods. W.B.
Yeats. New York: Macmillan, 1903. |
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POEMS BY WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS |
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