To The Rose Upon The Rood Of Time
The weak worm hiding down in its small cave,
And heavy mortal hopes that toil and pass;
In all poor foolish things that live a day,
By God to the bright hearts of those long dead,
And l九*九*藏*书*网earn to chaunt a tongue men do not know.
Who cast round Fergus dreams, and ruin untold;
The field-mouse running by me in the grass,
Come near, that no more blinded hy mans99lib•net fate,
Lest I no more bear common things that crave;
Come near; I would, before my time to go,
Sing of old Eire and the ancient ways:
And thine own sadness, where of stars, gro99lib•netwn old
Red Rose, proud Rose, sad Rose of all my days!
The Druid, grey, wood-nurtured, quiet-eyed,
To The Rose Upon The Rood Of Time
Come near, come near, come near - Ah, l九九藏书网eave me still
Cuchulain battling with the bitter tide;
Eternal beauty wandering on her way.
But seek alone to hear the strange things said
I find under the boughs of love and hate,
Red Rose, prou九九藏书网d Rose, sad Rose of all my days.
In dancing silver-sandalled on the sea,
Sing in their high and lonely melody.
A little space for the rose-breath to fill!
Come near me, while I sing the ancient ways: