Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE WESTERN WINDS, by JOHN WALSH (1835-1881)


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE WESTERN WINDS, by                    
First Line: A maiden sat on an ocean-steep
Last Line: The golden brim of the western wave.
Subject(s): Dreams; Nightmares


A MAIDEN sat on an ocean-steep;
She gazed on the place where the sun went down,
Her face was mild as an infant's sleep,
Her silken hair was a wavy brown.
She murmured sadly, softly, and low,
As the soothing tone of the gentle dove,
'Of all the winds the heavens can blow,
The West, the West is the one I love.

'Last night I dreamed that a summer eve
Brought back my long-lost love to me;
He clasped me close, and "No longer grieve,"
He whispered me softly, "astor machree."
Alas, alas!' and her voice was low
As the plaintive tone of the gentle dove,
'The sun is gone, and the West winds blow,
Yet where, oh! where is my plighted love?

''Tis a long dark dream, like a funeral hymn;
Will it ever end -- will it pass away?
My heart is sad, and my eyes are dim;
Will it ever behold hope's dawning day?'
Her voice sank down to an accent low
As the soothing tone of the gentle dove --
'How sweet the rush of the West winds blow!
But where, ah! where is my only love?

'If Eoghan comes, will he bring to me
The heart that away from Erin he bore?
They say that all in that land are free,
And perhaps he may love its maidens more.
Oh no, oh no!' she murmured low,
As soft as the tone of the plaintive dove;
'The Western wind is the one, I know,
That will bear me homeward the heart I love.

'Sad was the hour that saw him sail --
'Twas for life, dear life, he was forced to flee;
Dark was the ship when she bent to the gale,
For she bore my world, my all from me.
Astor!' she murmured, sad and low
As the soothing tone of the gentle dove,
'Why did not I to that black ship go,
And be near you for ever, my absent love?'

Weep not, sweet maid; for his face you will see;
He will clasp that hand to his own once more;
He will tread o'er his native hills as free
As he does even now on the distant shore;
For their ranks are full, and their hearts are true,
And their arms are young, and bold, and brave;
We will see their ships when the sun sinks through
The golden brim of the Western wave.





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