| Share page | Visit Us On FB |
|
138 THE GOLDEN TREASURY OF |
||
|
Rose o' the World, they go out and in, And watch me dream and my mother spin : And they pity the tears on my sleeping face While my soul's away in a fairy place.
Rose o' the World, they have words galore, And wide's the swing of my mother's door: And soft they speak of my darkened eyes — But what do they know, who are all so wise ?
Rose o' the World, the pain you give Is worth all days that a man may live — Worth all shy prayers that the colleens say On the night that darkens the wedding-day.
Rose o' the World, what man would wed When he might dream of your face, instead ? — Might go to his grave with the blessed pain Of hungering after your face again ?
Rose o' the World, they may talk their fill, For dreams are good, and my life stands still While their lives' red ashes the gossips stir; But my fiddle knows—and I talk to her. |
||
|
THE FAERY FOOL
I
F I'm the Faery fool, Dalua — Ay me, the Faery fool ! How do I know what the rushes say, Sighing and shuddering all the day Over their shadowy pool ? |
||