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Classic and Contemporary Poetry | |||
STAR of my sight, you gentle Breedyeen, Often at night I am sick and grieving; I am ill, I know it, and no deceiving, And grief on the wind blows no relieving. 0 wind, if passing by that grey boreen, Blow my blessing unto my storeen; Were I on the spot I should hear her calling, But I am not, and my tears are falling. Into the post I put a letter Telling my love that I was no better; Small the loss, was her answer to me, A lover's mind should be always gloomy. Wind, greet the mountain where she I prize is When the gold moon sets and the white sun rises; A grey fog hangs over cursed Dublin, It fills my lungs and my heart it's troubling. Ochone Ifor the death, when the breath is going! I thought to bribe it with bumpers flowing; I'd give what men see from yonder steeple To be in Loughrea and amongst my people. Och, the long high-roads I shall never travel! Worn my brogues are, with stones and gravel; Though I went to mass, there was no devotion, But to see her pass with her swan-like motion. Farewell Loughrea, and a long farewell to you; Many's the pleasant day I spent in you, Drinking with friends, and my love beside me, I little dreamt then of what should betide me. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HE MEDIATES ON THE LIFE OF A RICH MAN by DOUGLAS HYDE ADDRESS OF DEATH TO TOMAS DE ROISTE by DOUGLAS HYDE NELLY OF THE TOP-KNOTS by DOUGLAS HYDE COLD, SHARP LAMENTATION by DOUGLAS HYDE THE ROOM OF MIRRORS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE UNIVERSAL PRAYER by ALEXANDER POPE IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 78 by ALFRED TENNYSON THE ROSE TREE by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS |
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