And hollow hills that circle the west;
Haunted of rooks and the far-off sea's
Immemorial vague unrest;
A land of sorrowful memories.
A gray sad land, where the wind has its will,
And the sun its way with the fruits and flowers;
Where ever the one all night is shrill,
And ever the other all day brings hours
Of glimmering hush that dead dreams fill.
A gray sad land, where her girlhood grew