Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE SORROW OF THE HOUSE OF LIR, by WILLIAM SHARP


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE SORROW OF THE HOUSE OF LIR, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Happy our father lir afar
Last Line: Homeless we are from shore to shore.
Alternate Author Name(s): Macleod, Fiona
Subject(s): Birds; Brothers; Homeless; Magic; Mythology - Celtic; Pain; Swans; Half-brothers; Suffering; Misery


Happy our father Lir afar,
With mead, and songs of love and war:
The salt brine, and the white foam,
With these his children have their home.

In the sweet days of long ago
Soft-clad we wandered to and fro:
But now cold winds of dawn and night
Pierce deep our feathers thin and light.

The hazel mead in cups of gold
We feasted from in days of old:
The sea-weed now our food, our wine
The salt, keen, bitter, barren brine.

On soft warm couches once we pressed:
White harpers lulled us to our rest:
Our beds are now where the sea raves,
Our lullaby the clash of waves.

Alas! the fair sweet days are gone
When love was ours from dawn to dawn:
Our sole companion now is pain,
Through frost and snow, through storm and rain.

Beneath my wings my brothers lie
When the fierce ice-winds hurtle by:
On either side and 'neath my breast
Lir's sons have known no other rest.

Ah, kisses we shall no more know,
Ah, love so dear exchanged for woe,
All that is sweet for us is o'er,
Homeless we are from shore to shore.





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