With heartbreak of the baffled, battle-broken Gael.
The clay is deep on Ireland’s breast:
Her proud and bleeding heart is laid at last to rest . .
To rest . . to rest!
[TWILIGHT FALLEN]
Twilight fallen white and cold,
Child in cradle, lamb in fold;
Glimmering thro’ the ghostly trees,
Gemini and Pleiades.
Wounds of Eloim,