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Padraic Colum

The Dead Player: In Memory Of Dudley Digges

THE candles lighted and the figure prone
Announce this to you: they are laid aside,
The noble, whimsical and pathetic roles,
Disanimated, not to be resumed!

And still the knocks, the three, the solemn knocks!

The role we singled when we spoke his name,
Of instant goodness and deep faithfulness
Will be sustained beyond the curtain fall.

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Vultures

FOUL-FEATHERED and scald-necked,
They sit in evil state;
Raw marks upon their breasts
As on men's wearing chains.

Impure, though they may plunge
Into the morning's springs,
And spirit-dulled, though they
Command the heaven's heights.

Angels of foulness, ye,
So fierce against the dead!
Sloth on your muffled wings,
And speed within your eyes!

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Breffne Caoinc

NOT as a woman of the English weeping over a lord of the
English
Do I weep—
A cry that scarcely stirs the heart!
I lament as it is in my blood to lament—
Castle and stronghold are broken,
And the sovereign of the land beside the lake lies dead
Mahon O'Reilly!
In his day the English were broken:
I weep beside Loch Sheelin and the day is long and grey!

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A Cradle Song

O men from the fields,
Come gently within.
Tread softly, softly
O men coming in!
Mavourneen is going
From me and from you,
Where Mary will fold him
With mantle of blue!
From reek of the smoke
And cold of the floor
And the peering of things
Across the half-door.
O men of the fields,
Soft, softly come thro'
Mary puts round him
Her mantle of blue.

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Hornets

How strangely like a churchyard skull
The thing that's there amongst the leaves!

A Hornets' nest; but stir the branch
And they'll be round your head and ears!

So wary ana so weaponed,
How do they not possess the wold?

Their lives a watch, their act a doom,
Of their own terrors they must die!

Livid, uneyed, articulate,
How like a skull their nest they make!

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Macaws

GREEN wings and yellow breasts on birds that stare
That turn their heads and stare,
And a red streamer tail!
They come from Yucatan
Where priests with clownish hats, and jade
Nose-coverings,
Looked pompously from steps of pyramids.
Now this their Yucatan,
This shop where they are Brobdingnagian.
Macaws that stare,
And blow into the conchs of their beaks,
And climb with their club feet.

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Shall I Go Bound And You Go Free?

SHALL I go bound and you go free,
And love one so removed from me?
Not so; the falcon o'er my brow
Hath better quest, I dare avow!

And must I run where you will ride,
And must I stay where you abide?
Not so; the feather that I wear
Is from an eyrie in the air!

And must I climb a broken stair,
And must I pace a chamber bare?
Not so; the Brenny plains are wide
And there are banners where I ride!

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Across The Door

THE fiddles were playing and playing,
The couples were out on the floor;
From converse and dancing he drew me,
And across the door.

Ah! strange were the dim, wide meadows,
And strange was the cloud-strewn sky,
And strange in the meadows the corncrakes,
And they making cry!

The hawthorn bloom was by us,
Around us the breath of the south
White hawthorn, strange in the night-time
His kiss on my mouth!

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Plovers

THE Plovers fly and cry around,
Unguided, nestless, without bourn,
Wandering and impetuous,
Turning and flying to return.

These wild birds seen on Ireland's ground
I name upon Hawaiian beaches
Estrayents, they, of all lands' ends,
They have the oceans for their reaches.

My thoughts are like the Plovers' flight,
Unguided, nestless, without bourn,
Wandering and impetuous,
Turning and flying to return.

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Ave Atque Vale

THOROUGH waters, thorough nations I have come
To lay last offerings at your low abode,
Brother, and to appeal
To ashes that were you.

Since that which none can check has borne you
From my regard, poor brother, these gifts take
The tokens that are due
To ancient pieties;

But find them washed with tears, the many tears
A brother shed; and now I say Farewell
Henceforth and for all time,
Hail, brother, and Farewell!

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