The four winds of Eirinn . arc sweet white women, a radiant throng,-Swaying like flowers in a scented wind : Hut between us the veil of eartii is strong,.And my eyes to their luring eyes arc blind. A blossom of fire is each beauteous bird,Scarlet and gold on melodious wings, And never so haunting a strain was heardlrom royal harj) in the Hall of Kings. 1 he sacred trees stand in raiiil)f)w dew,.Apple and ash and the twisted thorn, Duickcn and holly and duskv yew,Ancient err e\er grav lime w.:^ Ijorn 64 THE POEMS OF ETHNA CARBERY The oak spreads mighty beneath the sunIn a wonderful dazzle of mo
The four winds of Eirinn . arc sweet white women, a radiant throng,-Swaying like flowers in a scented wind : Hut between us the veil of eartii is strong,.And my eyes to their luring eyes arc blind. A blossom of fire is each beauteous bird,Scarlet and gold on melodious wings, And never so haunting a strain was heardlrom royal harj) in the Hall of Kings. 1 he sacred trees stand in raiiil)f)w dew,.Apple and ash and the twisted thorn, Duickcn and holly and duskv yew,Ancient err e\er grav lime w.:^ Ijorn 64 THE POEMS OF ETHNA CARBERY The oak spreads mighty beneath the sunIn 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 earths brink, afar. Forgotten of men, in a rosc-rim set,I-lSreasil shines like a beckoning THE CURSE OF MORA. The fretted fires of Mora Blew gainst him in the night, He thrills no more at loving,Nor weeps for lost delight. For when those flames have bittenBoth joy and grief take flight. Around his path the ever grim and high : Spears flash in hands long withered-And dented siiiclds give cry; Or misty woman-faces Laugh out, anrl pass him by. He hath the curse ot .Mora—Yet lilcssed of all is he Whose dew-wet eyes upliftedSec what we fain would sec— One crowned with scarlet berrit-:*Of the sacred quicken tree. 66 THE POEMS OI- ETHNA CAREERY He hears the wild Green Harper Chant sweet a fairy rune,And ihrout^h the slcepin^j-silence His feet must track the tuneWhen the world is harred and -speckled With silver of the moon. Thus is he doomed till Judgment—Although the cairn should hold His fevered heart in quiet,And hide his hair of gold, His soul shall wander seeking,And its quest be never told. »*^^j TFIR POEMS OF ETHXA CARBERY 67 T
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