Page:The Collected Poems of Dora Sigerson Shorter.djvu/150



At the grey dawn, amongst the falling leaves, A little bird outside my window swung, High on a topmost branch he trilled his song, And “Ireland! Ireland! Ireland!” ever sung.

“Take me,” I cried, “back to my island home; Sweet bird, my soul shall ride between thy wings”; For my lone spirit wide his pinions spread, And “Home” and “Home” and “Home” he ever sings.

We lingered over Ulster stern and wild. I called: “Arise! doth none remember me?” One turnèd in the darkness murmuring, “How loud upon the breakers sobs the sea!”

We rested over Connaught—whispering said: “Awake, awake, and welcome! I am here.” One woke and shivered at the morning grey: “The trees, I never heard them sigh so drear.”

We flew low over Munster. Low I wept: “You used to love me, love me once again!” They spoke from out the shadows wondering: “You'd think of tears, so bitter falls the rain.”

Long over Leinster lingered we. “Goodbye! My best beloved, goodbye for evermore.” Sleepless they tossed and whispered to the dawn: “So sad a wind was never heard before.”