These are the arrows that murder sleep At every hour in the night's black deep; Pangs of Love through the long day ache, All for the dead Dinertach's sake. Great love of a hero from Roiny's plain Has pierced me through with immortal pain, Blasted my beauty and left me to blanch, A riven bloom on a restless branch. Never was song like Dinertach's speech But holy strains that to heaven's gate reach; A front of flame without boast or pride, Yet a firm, fond mate for a fair maid's side. A growing girl--I was timid of tongue, And never trysted with gallants young, But since I have won into passionate age, Fierce love-longings my heart engage. I have every bounty that life could hold, With Guare, arch-monarch of Aidne cold, But, fallen away from my haughty folk, In Irluachair's field my heart lies broke. There is chanting in glorious Aidne's meadow, Under St. Colman's Church's shadow; A hero flame sinks into the tomb-- Dinertach, alas, my love and my doom! Chaste Christ! that now at my life's last breath I should tryst with Sorrow and mate with Death! At every hour of the night's black deep, These are the arrows that murder sleep. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PLACES: 4. EVENING (NAHANT) by SARA TEASDALE A SPIRIT PASSED BEFORE ME by GEORGE GORDON BYRON ODE TO FORTUNE by FITZ-GREENE HALLECK SOMEBODY'S DARLING by MARIE LA CONTE THE PICTURE OF LITTLE T.C. IN A PROSPECT OF FLOWERS by ANDREW MARVELL |