THE ARMY OF THE VOICE OU cannot take me, ah, I will not go Yo To what strange turmoil would you carry me The tides and surges of your savage sea To my tired spirit are an agony. Broken my wings indeed, I cannot fly, My heart, turned to the sea-bird's lonesome cry, To the great silences in dreams I go T THE LIVING CHALICE HE mother sent me on the Holy Quest In vestures by her hand wrought wondrously: Before, new drest, I from the Mother came, Eyes of the Soul, awake, awake and see, 1 JAMES LYMAN MOLLOY THE CLANG OF THE WOODEN SHOON H! the clang of the wooden shoon, It rings in my heart for aye, When the boats came in, With the sailors all aglow, And the moon shone down on the glistening tide below. "Now my lads, with a merry will, And all was taut and clear, And a wild, glad dance lit up the wooden pier. Oh! the rush of the tripping feet, Oh! the lightsome hearts that beat; Wild and sweet the merry tune and the clang of the wooden shoon. But they are gone a weary while, ah me, And he, my own, came home no more from sea. The sea looks black, The waves have all a moan, And I am left to sit and dream alone, To sit and dream alone. Still I see them on the pier, All the kindly faces near, Hear the wild and merry tune, And the clang of the wooden shoon, When the boats came in with the sailors all aglow, And the moon shone down on the rippling tide below. "M THE FIRST VOYAGE Y little one's going to sea, For once be kind, And bring him again to me." Are clear and bright, And hark, the old Bréton song ! "The sea is great and our boat is small, The little one lightly sprang On board as the sailors sang, And leaving the pier, His parting cheer, Half gayly, half sadly rang. The old Bréton song, Rose through the midnight air. "The sea is great and our boat is small, THE KERRY DANCE the days of the Kerry dancing, O the ring of the piper's tune ! O for one of those hours of gladness, gone, alas! like our youth too soon; When the boys began to gather in the glen of a sum mer night, And the Kerry piper's tuning made us long with wild delight, O to think of it, O to dream of it, fills my heart with tears. O the days of the Kerry dancing, O the ring of the piper's tune! O for one of those hours of gladness, gone, alas! like our youth too soon. Was there ever a sweeter colleen in the dance than Eily Moore? Or a prouder lad than Thady, as he boldly took the floor? "Lads and lasses to your places; up the middle and down again. Ah! the merry hearted laughter ringing through the happy glen! O to think of it, O to dream of it, fills my heart with tears! O the days, etc. |