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THE EARTH SPIRIT.
A laughter in the diamond air, a music in the trembling grass, And one by one the words of light as joy-drops through my
being pass. I am the sunlight in the heart, the silver moon-glow in the
mind; My laughter runs and ripples through the wavy tresses of the
wind. I am the fire upon the hills, the dancing flame that leads afar Each burning hearted wanderer, and I the dear and homeward
star. A myriad lovers died for me, and in their latest yielded breath I woke in glory giving them immortal life though touched by
death. They knew me from the dawn of time: if Hermes beats his rain.
bow wings, If Angus shakes his locks of light, or golden-haired Apollo
sings, It matters not, the name, the land: my joy in all the gods
abides: Even in the cricket in the grass some dimness of me smiles and
hides. For joy of me the day-star glows, and in delight and wild de
sire The peacock twilight rays aloft its plumes and blooms of
shadowy fire, Where in the vastness too I burn through summer nights and
ages long, And with the fiery-footed planets wave in myriad dance and
A CALL OF THE SIDHE.
Tarry thou yet, late lingerer in the twilight's glory:
Come thou away with them, for Heaven to Earth is calling.
THE PLACE OF REST.
“ The soul is its own witness and its own refuge.”
Unto the deep the deep heart goes,
It lays its sadness nigh the breast:
The wounds that quiver unconfessed.
It seeks a deeper silence still;
It folds itself around with peace,
In quietness unfostered cease.
It feels in the unwounding vast
For comfort for its hopes and fears :
She listens to her children's tears.
Where the last anguish deepens—there
The fire of beauty smites through pain:
The Mother takes her child again.
THE GATES OF DREAMLAND.
It's a lonely road through bogland to the lake at Carrowmore, And a sleeper there lies dreaming where the water laps the
shore. Though the moth-wings of the twilight in their purples are un
furled Yet his sleep is filled with gold light by the masters of the There's a hand is white as silver that is fondling with his hair: There are glimmering feet of sunshine that are dancing by him
there: And half-open lips of faery that were dyed to richest red In their revels where the Hazel Tree its holy clusters shed.
“Come away," the red lips whisper, "all the world is weary
now; 'T is the twilight of the ages, and it's time to quit the plow. Oh, the very sunlight's weary ere it lightens up the dew, And its gold is changed to graylight before it falls to you.
“ Though your colleen's heart be tender, a tenderer heart is
near; What's the starlight in her glance when the stars are shining
clear? Who would kiss the fading shadow when the flower face glows
above? 'Tis the Beauty of all Beauty that is calling for your love."
Oh, the mountain gates of dreamland have opened once again, And the sound of song and dancing falls upon the ears of men; And the Land of Youth lies gleaming flushed with opal light
and mirth, And the old enchantment lingers in the honey heart of earth.
Those delicate wanderers
The wind, the star, the cloud-
As to an Altar bowed,
The offerings arise :
Hazes of rainbow light,
Through dreamland take their flight;
In miracles of fire
He symbols forth His days;
Reveals what pure pathways
I am the tender voice calling “Away,"
Now when the giant in us wakes and broods,
Filled with home-yearnings, drowsily he flings From his deep heart high dreams and mystic moods,
Mixed with the memory of the loved earth-things; Clothing the vast with a familiar face, Reaching his right hand forth to greet the starry race.
Wondrously near and clear the great warm fires
Stare from the blue; so shows the cottage light To the field laborer whose heart desires
The old folk by the nook, the welcome bright From the housewife long parted from at dawnSo the star villages in God's great depth withdrawn
Nearer to Thee, not by delusion led,
Though there no house-fires burn nor bright eyes gaze; We rise, but by the symbol charioted,
Through loved things rising up to Love's own ways; By these the soul unto the vast has wings, And sets the seal celestial on all mortal things.
Image of beauty, when I gaze on thee,
And, ah! to think how thin the veil that lies