Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. 1919. The Oxford Book of English Verse: 1250–1900.
Dora Sigerson. d. 1918881. Ireland
‘TWAS the dream of a God, | |
And the mould of His hand, | |
That you shook ‘neath His stroke, | |
That you trembled and broke | |
To this beautiful land. | 5 |
Here He loosed from His hold | |
A brown tumult of wings, | |
Till the wind on the sea | |
Bore the strange melody | |
Of an island that sings. | 10 |
He made you all fair, | |
You in purple and gold, | |
You in silver and green, | |
Till no eye that has seen | |
Without love can behold. | 15 |
I have left you behind | |
In the path of the past, | |
With the white breath of flowers, | |
With the best of God’s hours, | |
I have left you at last. | 20 |