OUT-WORN heart,in a time out-worn, Come clear of the nets of wrong and right; Laugh heart again in the gray twilight, Sigh,heart,again in the dew of the morn.
Your mother Eire is always young, Dew ever shining and twilight gray; Though hope fall from you and love decay, Burning in fires of a slanderous tongue.
Come,heart,where hill is heaped upon hill: For there the mystical brotherhood Of sun and moon and hollow and wood And river and stream work out their will;
And God stands winding His lonely horn, And time and the world are ever in flight; And love is less kind than the gray twilight, And hope is less dear than the dew of the morn
Comments (3)
Great Irish poet !
Mick.
Hi again Lisa.....very clever of you.
Yes I know her, and yes she is a very sweet and adorable girl. She is also VERY shy. It took me months just to get one picture from her....
Thank you Lisa.