MY land, my Erin, can we sing of thee Save in that music ringing through thy vales, And through thy people's hearts, -- how bold and free, How sadly like a Rachel's piteous wails, Dying in anguish, faintly, brokenly, With more of woe than all a poet's tales? Thy music is thy speech: so half in fear I link this story now in rhythmic law, And miss in words that plaintive warble, clear And dreamful, which first woke my soul with awe, And thrilled it into motion, as a mere Is rippled weirdly by the mountain flaw. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MARY DONNELLY by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM JIM, WHO RAN AWAY FROM HIS NURSE, AND WAS EATEN BY A LION by HILAIRE BELLOC CALIBAN UPON SETEBOS; OR, NATURAL THEOLOGY IN THE ISLAND by ROBERT BROWNING A THOUGHT SUGGESTED BY A VIEW, OF SADDLEBACK IN CUMBERLAND by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE A SHROPSHIRE LAD: 21. BREDON HILL by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN THE BIGLOW PAPERS. 2D SERIES. THE COURTIN' by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL |