Balva the old monk I am called: when I was young, Balva Honeymouth. That was before Colum the White came to Iona in the West. She whom I loved was a woman whom I won out of the South, And I had a good heaven with my lips on hers and with breast to breast. Balva the old monk I am called: were it not for the fear That the soul of Colum the White would meet my soul in the Narrows That sever the living and dead, I would rise up from here And go back to where men pray with spears and arrows. Balva the old monk I am called: ugh! ugh! the cold bell of the matins—'tis dawn! Sure it's a dream I have had that I was in a warm wood with the sun ashine, And that against me in the pleasant greenness was a soft fawn, And a voice that whispered "Balva Honeymouth, drink, I am thy wine!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NEURASTENIA by AGNES MARY F. ROBINSON MONNA INNOMINATA, A SONNET OF SONNETS: 6 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI SISTER HELEN by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI ECLOGUE: TWO FARMS IN WOONE by WILLIAM BARNES |