Chorus. Come praise Colonus’ hors
The wine-dark of the wood’s intric
The nightingale that deafens dayli
If daylight ever visit where,
Unvisited by tempest or by sun,

BIRD sighs for the air,
Thought for I know not where,
For the womb the seed sighs.
Now sinks the same rest
On mind, on nest,

THE light of evening, Lissadell,
Great windows open to the south,
Two girls in silk kimonos, both
Beautiful, one a gazelle.
But a raving autumn shears

WITH the old kindness, the old d
She lies, her lovely piteous head
Propped upon pillows, rouge on the
She would not have us sad because
And when she meets our gaze her ey

Three Voices [together]. Hurry to
The mouths that speak, the notes a
O masters of the glittering town!
O! lay the shrilly trumpet down,
Though drunken with the flags that

I BRING you with reverent hands
The books of my numberless dreams,
White woman that passion has worn
As the tide wears the dove-grey sa
And with heart more old than the h

WHERE has Maid Quiet gone to,
Nodding her russet hood?
The winds that awakened the stars
Are blowing through my blood.
O how could I be so calm

Although I can see him still,
The freckled man who goes
To a grey place on a hill
In grey Connemara clothes
At dawn to cast his flies,

HAS no one said those daring
Kind eyes should be more learn’d?
Or warned you how despairing
The moths are when they are burned
I could have warned you; but you a

FOR one throb of the artery,
While on that old grey stone I Sa
Under the old wind-broken tree,
I knew that One is animate,
Mankind inanimate fantasy’.