Dark eyes, wonderful, strange and dear they shone
A moment’s space;
And wandering under the white stars I had gone
In a strange place.
Over the half door careless, your white hand
A moment gleamed;
And I was walking on some great storm-heaped strand
Forever it seemed.
I would give all that glory to see once more,
A moment’s space,
Your eyes gleam strange and dark above the half door,
Your Hand’s white grace.
Seamus O'Sullivan (1879 -1958) Ireland
Source: Anthology of Irish verse, ed. with an introduction by Padraic Colum, Boni and Liveright, 1922
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