Juno's
peacock screamed.
IV
i{My Descendants}
Having inherited a
vigorous mind
From my old fathers, I must
nourish dreams
And leave a woman and a man behind
As
vigorous of mind, and yet it seems
Life
scarce can cast a
fragrance on the wind,
Scarce spread a glory to the morning beams,
But the torn petals strew the garden plot;
And there's but common greenness after that.
And what if my descendants lose the flower
Through natural declension of the soul,
Through too much business with the passing hour,
Through too much play, or marriage with a fool?
May this
laborious stair and this stark tower
Become a roofless min that the owl
May build in the
crackedmasonry and cry
Her
desolation to the
desolate sky.
The primum Mobile that fashioned us
Has made the very owls in circles move;
And I, that count myself most prosperous,
Seeing that love and friendship are enough,
For an old neighbour's friendship chose the house
And decked and altered it for a girl's love,
And know
whateverflourish and decline
These stones remain their
monument and mine.
V
i{The Road at My Door}
An affable Irregular,
A heavily-built Falstaffian man,
Comes cracking jokes of civil war
As though to die by gunshot were
The finest play under the sun.
A brown Lieutenant and his men,
Half dressed in national uniform,
Stand at my door, and I complain
Of the foul weather, hail and rain,
A pear-tree broken by the storm.
I count those
feathered balls of soot
The moor-hen guides upon the stream.
To silence the envy in my thought;
And turn towards my
chamber, caught
In the cold snows of a dream.
VI
i{The Stare's Nest by My Window}
The bees build in the crevices
Of loosening
masonry, and there
The mother birds bring grubs and flies.
My wall is loosening; honey-bees,
Come build in the empty house of the state.
We are closed in, and the key is turned
On our
uncertainty; somewhere
A man is killed, or a house burned,
Yet no cleat fact to be discerned:
Come build in he empty house of the stare.
A barricade of stone or of wood;
Some fourteen days of civil war;
Last night they trundled down the road
That dead young soldier in his blood:
Come build in the empty house of the stare.
We had fed the heart on fantasies,
The heart's grown
brutal from the fare;
More Substance in our enmities
Than in our love; O honey-bees,
Come build in the empty house of the stare.
VII
i{I see Phantoms of Hatred and of the Heart's}
i{Fullness and of the Coming Emptiness}
I climb to the tower-top and lean upon broken stone,
A mist that is like blown snow is
sweeping over all,
Valley, river, and elms, under the light of a moon
That seems
unlike itself, that seems unchangeable,
A glittering sword out of the east. A puff of wind
And those white glimmering fragments of the mist
sweep by.
Frenzies
bewilder, reveries perturb the mind;
Monstrous familiar images swim to the mind's eye.
"Vengeance upon the murderers,' the cry goes up,
"Vengeance for Jacques Molay.' In cloud-pale rags, or
in lace,
The rage-driven, rage-tormented, and rage-hungry troop,
Trooper belabouring
trooper,
biting at arm or at face,
Plunges towards nothing, arms and fingers spreading
wide
For the
embrace of nothing; and I, my wits astray
Because of all that
senselesstumult, all but cried
For
vengeance on the murderers of Jacques Molay.
Their legs long,
delicate and
slender, aquamarine their
eyes,
Magical unicorns bear ladies on their backs.
The ladies close their musing eyes. No prophecies,
Remembered out of Babylonian almanacs,
Have closed the ladies' eyes, their minds are but a pool
Where even
longing drowns under its own excess;
Nothing but
stillness can remain when hearts are full
Of their own
sweetness, bodies of their loveliness.
The cloud-pale unicorns, the eyes of aquamarine,
The quivering half-closed eyelids, the rags of cloud or
of lace,
Or eyes that rage has brightened, arms it has made lean,
Give place to an
indifferentmultitude, give place
To
brazen hawks. Nor self-delighting reverie,
Nor hate of what's to come, nor pity for what's gone,
Nothing but grip of claw, and the eye's complacency,
The
innumerable clanging wings that have put out the
moon.
I turn away and shut the door, and on the stair
Wonder how many times I could have proved my
worth
In something that all others understand or share;
But O!
ambitious heart, had such a proof drawn forth
A company of friends, a
conscience set at ease,
It had but made us pine the more. The
abstract joy,
The half-read
wisdom of daemonic images,
Suffice the ageing man as once the growing boy.
COLONEL MARTIN
THE Colonel went out sailing,
He spoke with Turk and Jew,
With Christian and with Infidel,
For all tongues he knew.
"O what's a wifeless man?' said he,
And he came sailing home.
He rose the latch and went upstairS
And found an empty room.
i{The Colonel went out sailing.}
"I kept her much in the country
And she was much alone,
And though she may be there,' he said,
"She may be in the town.
She may be all alone there,
For who can say?' he said.
"I think that I shall find her
In a young man's bed.'
i{The Colonel went out sailing.}
III
The Colonel met a pedlar,
Agreed their clothes to swop,
And bought the grandest
jewelryIn a Galway shop,
Instead of thread and needle
put
jewelry in the pack,
Bound a thong about his hand,
Hitched it on his back.
i{The Colonel wcnt out sailing.}
The Colonel knocked on the rich man's door,
"I am sorry,' said the maid,
"My
mistress cannot see these things,
But she is still abed,
And never have I looked upon
Jewelry so grand.'
"Take all to your
mistress,'
And he laid them on her hand.
i{The Colonel went out sailing.}
And he went in and she went on
And both climbed up the stair,
And O he was a clever man,
For he his slippers wore.
And when they came to the top stair
He ran on ahead,
His wife he found and the rich man
In the comfort of a bed.
i{The Colonel went out sailing.}
The Judge at the Assize Court,
When he heard that story told,
Awarded him for damages
Three kegs of gold.
The Colonel said to Tom his man,
"Harness an ass and cart,
Carry the gold about the town,
Throw it in every patt.'
i{The Colonel went out sailing.}
VII
And there at all street-corners
A man with a
pistol stood,
And the rich man had paid them well
To shoot the Colonel dead;
But they threw down their
pistols
And all men heard them swear
That they could never shoot a man
Did all that for the poor.
i{The Colonel went out sailing.}
VIII
"And did you keep no gold, Tom?
You had three kegs,' said he.
"I never thought of that, Sir.'
"Then want before you die.'
And want he did; for my own grand-dad
Saw the story's end,
And Tom make out a living
From the
seaweed on the strand.
i{The Colonel went out sailing.}
THE COMING OF WISDOM WITH TIME
THOUGH leaves are many, the root is one;
Through all the lying days of my youth
I swayed my leaves and flowers in the sun;
Now I may
wither into the truth.
THE COUNTESS CATHLEEN IN PARADISE
ALL the heavy days are over;
Leave the body's coloured pride
Underneath the grass and
clover,