Padraic Colum (1881–1972). Anthology of Irish Verse. 1922.
By Francis Hackett120. The Dead Aviator
S
Kept me within his eye,
And lean he licked his hollow flanks
And followed up the sky.
When I was lost to sight,
I was the golden arrow loosed
To pierce the heart of night.
Above the rising sun,
I met the morning in a blaze
Before my hour was gone.
Its reins I flung aside,
Laughter was mine and mine was youth
And all my own was pride.
I had no doubt nor fear
The minutes were a forfeit paid
To fetch the landfall near.
My carol frozen died,
A white cloud laid her cheek to mine
And wove me to her side.
Her hair drooped in my face,
And up we fell and down we rose
And twisted into space.
I pressed the edge of life,
I kissed the sun and raced the wind,
I found immortal strife.
I lost the mortal share,
My grave is in the ashen plain,
My spirit in the air.
Sweet pain of man that bled,
I was the lark that spilled his heart,
The golden arrow sped.
Kept me within his eye
And lean he licked his hollow flanks
And followed up the sky.