Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE IMPASSABLE by WILLIAM WILKINS

First Line: IN OVOCA VALLEY THE WOOD AND WATER
Last Line: IN TOSSING HIS CORSE UPON ARKLOW BANK.
IN Ovoca valley the wood and water
Are dipt in shimmering haze of light,
On the beach at Arklow the sand and water
Flashes and sparkles in blue and white.
In Ovoca valley the woodbine-clusters
Are hung in the wood like chandeliers,
In Arklow harbour the bright tide lustres
The murmurous darkness under the piers.
In Ovoca valley the cart-boy listens --
'Cuckoo, cuckoo' -- through the brooding heat;
In the surge at Arklow the bather glistens
A fairy -- afloat at the green hill's feet.

The streams come down to Ovoca valley,
Out of the distance, out of the hills;
From ledge to ledge falling musically,
To a hundred lakes, in a million rills;
From stony teats of huge Lugnaculliogh's, --
From Mullacleevaun's enormous mass;
From Croghan and Douce and Carrowstick hollows,
And purple summits o'er Glenmacnass;
From black Nahanagan, wilder Ouler,
And Luggelaw, walled with wood and rock;
From bright Lough Dan, spreading broader, fuller,
And the double darkness in Glendalough:
The streamlets repose and the streamlets rally,
And narrow and broaden down rapid and reach,
Till they mingle at last in Ovoca valley
With sound that abides like the scent of a peach.
But they flow in tune down Ovoca valley
Where miners tunnel the clear cliff's flank;
By coppice and meadow down musically,
And out in the offing to Arklow Bank.

In Ovoca valley a girl is singing
With glad thoughts fixed on her sailor frank,
While sand upon sand is the bright tide bringing
To bury that sailor on Arklow Bank.
The good ship sails and the glad girl singeth,
And sunshine is bright upon stream and sea,
The high hills gleam and the white wave springeth,
And stout is the sailor and filled with glee;
But when channel and valley in midnight slumber,
And rain rinses lawn and landing-place,
That ship shall be manned by a mermaid number
Whose kisses shall marble the mariner's face.
And the morn will be bright in Ovoca valley
Though the girl's heart break that her sailor sank,
And the wave will omit not a sparkling sally
In tossing his corse upon Arklow Bank.



Home: PoetryExplorer.net