The Land of Hearts Desire

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Blue Book#335), by W.B. Yeats
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Title: The Land Of Heart's Desire (Little Blue Book#335)
Author: W.B. Yeats
Release Date: February 23, 2005 [EBook #15153]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
0. START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LAND
OF HEART'S DESIRE ***
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LITTLE BLUE BOOK NO. 335
Edited by E. Haldeman-Julius
The Land of
Heart's Desire
W.B. Yeats
HALDEMAN-JULIUS COMPANY
GIRARD, KANSAS
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
THE LAND OF HEART'S DESIRE
PERSONS
MAURTEEN BRUIN.
SHAWN BRUIN.
FATHER HART.


BRIDGET BRUIN.
MAIRE BRUIN.
A FAERY CHILD.
_The scene is laid in the Barony of Kilmacowen
in the county of
Sligo, and the time is the
end of Eighteenth Century. The
characters
are supposed to
speak in Gaelic._
THE LAND OF HEART'S DESIRE
The kitchen of_ MAURTEEN BRAIN'S house. An open grate with a turf
fire is at the left side of the room, with a table in front of it. There is a
door leading to the open air at the back, and another door a little to its
left, leading into an inner room. There is a window, a settle, and a large
dresser on the right side of the room, and a great bowl of primroses on
the sill of the window._ MAURTEEN BRUIN, FATHER HART; and_
BRIDGET BRUIN _are sitting at the table._ SHAWN BRUIN is setting
the table for supper._ MAIRE BRUIN _sits on the settle reading a
yellow manuscript._
BRIDGET BRUIN.
Because I bade her go and feed the calves,
She took that old book
down out of the thatch
And has been doubled over it all day.
We
would be deafened by her groans and moans
Had she to work as
some do, Father Hart,
Get up at dawn like me, and mend and scour;

Or ride abroad in the boisterous night like you,
The pyx and
blessed bread under your arm.
SHAWN BRUIN.
You are too cross.
BRIDGET BRUIN.
The young side with the young.
MAURTEEN BRUIN.

She quarrels with my wife a bit at times,
And is too deep just now in
the old book;
But do not blame her greatly; she will grow
As quiet
as a puff-ball in a tree
When but the moons of marriage dawn and die

For half a score of times.
FATHER HART
Their hearts are wild
As be the hearts of birds, till children come.
BRIDGET BRUIN.
She would not mind the griddle, milk the cow,
Or even lay the knives
and spread the cloth.
FATHER HART.
I never saw her read a book before:
What may it be?
MAURTEEN BRUIN.
I do not rightly know:
It has been in the thatch for fifty years.
My
father told me my grandfather wrote it,
Killed a red heifer and bound
it with the hide.
But draw your chair this way--supper is spread;

And little good he got out of the book,
Because it filled his house
with roaming bards,
And roaming ballad-makers and the like,
And
wasted all his goods.--Here is the wine;
The griddle bread's beside
you, Father Hart.
Colleen, what have you got there in the book
That
you must leave the bread to cool? Had I,
Or had my father, read or
written books
There were no stockings full of silver and gold
To
come, when I am dead, to Shawn and you.
FATHER HART.
You should not fill your head with foolish dreams.
What are you
reading?

MAIRE BRUIN.
How a Princess Edene,
A daughter of a King of Ireland, heard
A
voice singing on a May eve like this,
And followed, half awake and
half asleep,
Until she came into the land of faery,
Where nobody
gets old and godly and grave,
Where nobody gets old and crafty and
wise,
Where nobody gets old and bitter of tongue;
And she is still
there, busied with a dance.
Deep in the dewy shadow of a wood,
Or
where stars walk upon a mountain top.
MAURTEEN BRUIN.
Persuade the colleen to put by the book:
My grandfather would
mutter just such things,
And he was no judge of a dog or horse,
And
any idle boy could blarney him.
Just speak your mind.
FATHER HART.
Put it away, my colleen.
God spreads the heavens above us like great
wings,
And gives a little round of deeds and days,
And then come
the wrecked angels and set snares,
And bait them with light hopes
and heavy dreams,
Until the heart is puffed with pride and goes,

Half shuddering and half joyous, from God's peace;
And it was some
wrecked angel, blind tears,
Who flattered Edene's heart with merry
words.
My colleen, I have seen some other girls
Restless and ill at
ease, but years went by
And they grew like their neighbours and were
glad
In minding children, working at the churn,
And