O brief, enchanted dream
Of sea and sky,
Of ploughland, meadow, stream,
And twilight loth to die,
Of fire and dew—
My soul is one with you!
[AT MORNING TIDE]
At morning tide,
Upon the hill of Sliabh-na-mBan,
I saw the dead Christ glorified!
O brief, enchanted dream
Of sea and sky,
Of ploughland, meadow, stream,
And twilight loth to die,
Of fire and dew—
My soul is one with you!
At morning tide,
Upon the hill of Sliabh-na-mBan,
I saw the dead Christ glorified!