Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.
A Psalm for Cathleen Ni HoolihanDavid Greenhood
I—
Who am come from the breast of Sheba to Caesar’s poisoned wine
Of which no Israelite may die—
Have not forgot the tang of grey sands
Nor the tang of keen black grasses.
I, who have danced in Rome,
And known Roman women of the dances,
I have not strayed from my tribe
Nor am I lost to my sires.
For today I came to an island
Green as my mother’s song of Canaan,
Fragrant as rain on the flax by the Nile,
And I heard Cathleen Ni Hoolihan crying.
Her breath was a breeze from a hill of blue flowers;
And though there was no crown upon her
I knew she was a queen;
And though she raised a queenly cheek and shoulder
I knew she was a slave.
Who am come from the breast of Sheba, majestic for all time;
Whose cheeks, like meat of the fig, were violet and white.
And, Cathleen Ni Hoolihan, I heard your crying.
That fell to the white petals of her feet.