the lark in the morn,
You hear the grey feet of the wind stir in
the shimmering corn,
You hear low down in the grass
‘The singing Shee as they pass;
Do you ever hear, O little green flame! -
My loved one calling, calling, whispering
my name?
O little green leaf on the bough like my
lips you must ever be dumb,
For a maiden must never speak till Love
to her heart says “Come!”
A mouth in its silence is sweet,
But my heart cries loud when we meet,
And I turn my head with a bitter sigh,
When the boy who has stolen my love,
unheeding goes by.
I have made my heart as the stones in the
street for his tread,
I have made my love as the shadow that
falls from his dear gold head.
But the stones with his footsteps ring,
And the shadow keeps following,
And just as the quiet shadow goes ever
beside or before
So must I go silent and lonely and loveless
for ever and evermore.
Cathal O’Byrne (1867 – 1957) Ireland
(also sometimes listed as Cathal O'Bryne)
Source: Anthology of Irish Verse, edited by Padraic Colum, Boni and Liveright, 1922
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