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IRISH SONGS AND LYRICS 483 |
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And sometimes through the long still day The breeding herons slowly rise, Lifting gray tranquil wings away, To tranquil skies.
Stud all your shores with prosperous towns ! Blacken your hillsides, mile on mile ! Redden with bricks your patient downs ! And proudly smile !
A day will come before you guess, A day when men, with clearer light, Will rue that deed beyond redress, Will loathe that sight.
And, loathing, fly the hateful place, And, shuddering, quit the hideous thing, For where unblackened rivers race, And skylarks sing.
For where, remote from smoke and noise, Old Leisure sits knee-deep in grass; Where simple days bring simple joys, And lovers pass.
I see her in those coming days, Still young, still gay; her unbound hair Crowned with a crown of starlike rays, Serenely fair.
I see an envied haunt of peace, Calm and untouched; remote from roar, Where wearied men may from their burdens cease On a still shore. |
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