Sunday, 26 August 2012

The heaped up sods upon the fire

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AN OLD WOMAN OF THE ROADS
O, to have a little house !
To own the hearth and stool and all !
The heaped up sods upon the fire
The pile of turf against the wall
!

To have a clock with weights and chains,
And pendulum swinging up and down !
A dresser filled with shiny delph,
Speckled with white and blue and brown !

I could be busy all the day
Cleaning and sweeping hearth and floor,
And fixing on their shelf again
My white and blue and speckled store !

I could be quiet there at night
Beside the fire and by myself,
Sure of a bed , and loth to leave
The ticking clock and shining delph !

Och ! but I’m  weary of mist and dark,
And roads where there’s never a house or bush,
And tired I am of bog and road,
And the crying wind and the lonesome hush !

And I am praying to God on high,
And I am praying him night and day,
For a little house – a house of my own-
Out of the wind’s and rain’s way

                                                                PADRAIC COLUM

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