Poetry

Ever to Be

My far cry, though no one should echo—
Though no one to listen should stand,
I shall dare with my burden the darkness
And I shall not retreat from this land;
Though I’m hurled ’neath the feet of the millions,
Who struggle their places to keep,
The sea-nymphs still bathe with my Fancy
And the Dryads still sweeten my sleep.

Though I’m crushed, cast away and forgotten—
Though I’m buried in the dust of their cars,
I can see through their madness above me—
I can feel the quick pulse of the stars;
Though my head be the foot-stool of tyrants,
Though my back be a step to their throne,
I still dwell with the kings of Orion
And I walk with the sun-queen alone.

Though the fire of my youth should consume me—
Though my body a brimstone should be,
I can draw on the clouds for their water
And behold! I’ve of water a sea;
And though roofless, and friendless, and hopeless,
And loveless, and godless I stand,
The waves of my Life shall continue
To murmur and laugh on the Strand.

Upon the Peak of Sanneen

My soul and I, upon the peak
Of Sanneen grim and grey,
Sat musing in the twilight of
A sombre summer day.