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FUCHSIA HEDGES IN CONNACHT, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: I think some saint of eirinn wandering far
Last Line: Through your bells rings the angelus!
Subject(s): Fuchsia


I think some saint of Eirinn wandering far
Found you and brought you here --
Demoiselles!
For so I greet you in this alien air!

And like those maidens who were only known
In their own land as daughters of the King,
Children of Charlemagne --
You have, by following that pilgrim-saint,
Become high vot'resses --
You have made your palace -- beauty dedicate,
And your pomp serviceable:
You stand beside our folds!

I think you came from some old Roman land --
Most alien, but most Catholic you are:
Your purple is the purple that enfolds,
In Passion Week, the Shrine,
Your scarlet is the scarlet of the wounds:
You bring before our walls, before our doors,
Lamps of the Sanctuary;
And in this stony place
The time the robin sings,
Through your bells rings the Angelus!





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