Page:In the Seven Woods, Yeats, 1903.djvu/35

 THE RIDER FROM THE NORTH

From the play of The Country of the Young

There's many a strong farmer

Who's heart would break in two

If he could see the townland

That we are riding to;

Boughs have their fruit and blossom,

At all times of the year,

Rivers are running over

With red beer and brown beer.

An old man plays the bagpipes

In a golden and silver wood,

Queens their eyes blue like the ice

Are dancing in a crowd.

The little fox he murmured,

O what is the world's bane?,

The sun was laughing sweetly,

The moon plucked at my rein;

But the little red fox murmured

'O do not pluck at his rein,

He is riding to the townland

That is the world's bane.'

When their hearts are so high,

That they would come to blows, 23