Sixteen Poems

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The Project Gutenberg EBook of Sixteen Poems, by William Allingham
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Title: Sixteen Poems
Author: William Allingham
Release Date: October 9, 2005 [EBook #16839]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
? START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SIXTEEN POEMS ***
Produced by David Starner, Sigal Alon and the Online?Distributed Proofreading Team at
SIXTEEN POEMS BY WILLIAM?ALLINGHAM: SELECTED BY?WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS
THE DUN EMER PRESS?DUNDRUM?MCMV
CONTENTS Page
Let Me Sing of What I Know 1?The Winding Banks of Erne 1
Abbey Asaroe 7
A Dream 10
The Fairies 12
The Lepracaun or Fairy Shoemaker 14
The Girl's Lamentation 17
The Nobleman's Wedding 20
Kate O' Belashanny 22
Four Ducks on a Pond 24
?olian Harp 24
The Maids of Elfin Mere 25
Twilight Voices 26
The Lover and Birds 28
The Abbot of Innisfallen 30
The Ruined Chapel 34
LET ME SING OF WHAT I KNOW
A wild west Coast, a little Town,?Where little Folk go up and down,?Tides flow and winds blow:?Night and Tempest and the Sea,?Human Will and Human Fate:?What is little, what is great??Howsoe'er the answer be,?Let me sing of what I know.
THE WINDING BANKS OF ERNE
Adieu to Belashanny!?where I was bred and born;?Go where I may, I'll think of you,?as sure as night and morn.?The kindly spot, the friendly town,?where every one is known,?And not a face in all the place?but partly seems my own;?There's not a house or window,?there's not a field or hill,?But, east or west, in foreign lands,?I'll recollect them still.?I leave my warm heart with you,?tho' my back I'm forced to turn--?Adieu to Belashanny,?and the winding banks of Erne!
No more on pleasant evenings?we'll saunter down the Mall,?When the trout is rising to the fly,?the salmon to the fall.?The boat comes straining on her net,?and heavily she creeps,?Cast off, cast off--she feels the oars,?and to her berth she sweeps;?Now fore and aft keep hauling,?and gathering up the clew,?Till a silver wave of salmon?rolls in among the crew.?Then they may sit, with pipes a-lit,?and many a joke and 'yarn';--?Adieu to Belashanny,?and the winding banks of Erne!
The music of the waterfall,?the mirror of the tide,?When all the green-hill'd harbour?is full from side to side,?From Portnasun to Bulliebawns,?and round the Abbey Bay,?From rocky Inis Saimer?to Coolnargit sandhills gray;?While far upon the southern line,?to guard it like a wall,?The Leitrim mountains clothed in blue?gaze calmly over all,?And watch the ship sail up or down,?the red flag at her stern;--?Adieu to these, adieu to all?the winding banks of Erne!
Farewell to you, Kildoney lads,?and them that pull an oar,?A lug-sail set, or haul a net,?from the Point to Mullaghmore;?From Killybegs to bold Slieve-League,?that ocean-mountain steep,?Six hundred yards in air aloft,?six hundred in the deep,?From Dooran to the Fairy Bridge,?and round by Tullen strand,?Level and long, and white with waves,?where gull and curlew stand;?Head out to sea when on your lee?the breakers you discern!--?Adieu to all the billowy coast,?and winding banks of Erne!
Farewell, Coolmore,--Bundoran! and?your summer crowds that run?From inland homes to see with joy?th' Atlantic-setting sun;?To breathe the buoyant salted air,?and sport among the waves;?To gather shells on sandy beach,?and tempt the gloomy caves;?To watch the flowing, ebbing tide,?the boats, the crabs, the fish;?Young men and maids to meet and smile,?and form a tender wish;?The sick and old in search of health,?for all things have their turn--?And I must quit my native shore,?and the winding banks of Erne!
Farewell to every