Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, AN TIR-NAN-OG (THE LAND OF YOUTH), by THOMAS EKENHEAD MAYNE


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

AN TIR-NAN-OG (THE LAND OF YOUTH), by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: In the land that I love is no wrong done
Last Line: Ah, no! The soul's way mine must be.


IN the land that I love is no wrong done,
Nor hurt nor evil beneath the fair sun,
The stainless skies ever tremble above
The sweet green plains of the land that I love.

The leaf never falls, the great green leaf
Never droops on the tree in wan winter's grief;
The red rose bloometh the long year long,
The bird never ceases its sweet low song.

The scent of the flowers on the faint wind blown
Reaches the foot of the soul's white throne,
And spirits stand with their pale feet
Bathed in the bloom of the meadows sweet.

The seasons change not, the birds do not die,
Asleep on the flowers the white Hours lie;
It is Beauty's own land, whose sway is so strong
Time's hand is not lifted against her for wrong.

Love's cheeks fade not -- there ever glows
The blush of the summer's sweet wild rose;
The light in her eyes is not quenched but is fed
By lustrous light from the pure stars shed.

How shall I reach this land that I love?
Through the way of the wind the high hills above?
Down through the blue wide ways of the sea?
Ah, no! the soul's way mine must be.





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