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Home  »  Anthology of Irish Verse  »  120. The Dead Aviator

Padraic Colum (1881–1972). Anthology of Irish Verse. 1922.

By Francis Hackett

120. The Dead Aviator

SO ENDLESSLY the gray-lipped sea

Kept me within his eye,

And lean he licked his hollow flanks

And followed up the sky.

I was the lark whose song was heard

When I was lost to sight,

I was the golden arrow loosed

To pierce the heart of night.

I fled the little earth, I climbed

Above the rising sun,

I met the morning in a blaze

Before my hour was gone.

I ran beyond the rim of space,

Its reins I flung aside,

Laughter was mine and mine was youth

And all my own was pride.

From end to end I knew the way

I had no doubt nor fear

The minutes were a forfeit paid

To fetch the landfall near.

But all at once my heart I held,

My carol frozen died,

A white cloud laid her cheek to mine

And wove me to her side.

Her icy fingers clasped my flesh,

Her hair drooped in my face,

And up we fell and down we rose

And twisted into space.

Laughter was mine and mine was youth,

I pressed the edge of life,

I kissed the sun and raced the wind,

I found immortal strife.

Out of myself I spent myself,

I lost the mortal share,

My grave is in the ashen plain,

My spirit in the air.

Good-bye, sweet pride of man that flew,

Sweet pain of man that bled,

I was the lark that spilled his heart,

The golden arrow sped.

So endlessly the gray-lipped sea

Kept me within his eye

And lean he licked his hollow flanks

And followed up the sky.