March 17, 2003
From the desk of Jane Galt:Happy St. Patrick's Day
A melancholy Irish poem for your delight:
Into The TwilightOUT-WORN heart, in a time out-worn,
Come clear of the nets of wrong and right;
Laugh, heart, again in the grey twilight,
Sigh, heart, again in the dew of the morn.Your mother Eire is aways young,
Dew ever shining and twilight grey;
Though hope fall from you and love decay,
Burning in fires of a slanderous tongue.Come, heart, where hill is heaped upon hill:
For there the mystical brotherhood
Of sun and moon and hollow and wood
And river and stream work out their will;And God stands winding His lonely horn,
And time and the world are ever in flight;
And love is less kind than the grey twilight,
And hope is less dear than the dew of the morn.-- WB Yeats
Posted by Jane Galt at March 17, 2003 4:39 PM | TrackBack | Technorati inbound links