Verse > Anthologies > Jessie B. Rittenhouse, ed. > The Little Book of Modern Verse
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Jessie B. Rittenhouse, ed. (1869–1948).  The Little Book of Modern Verse.  1917.
 
65. Irish Peasant Song
 
By Louise Imogen Guiney
 
 
I TRY to knead and spin, but my life is low the while,
Oh, I long to be alone, and walk abroad a mile;
Yet if I walk alone, and think of naught at all,
Why from me that’s young should the wild tears fall?
 
The shower-sodden earth, the earth-colored streams,        5
They breathe on me awake, and moan to me in dreams,
And yonder ivy fondling the broke castle-wall,
It pulls upon my heart till the wild tears fall.
 
The cabin-door looks down a furze-lighted hill,
And far as Leighlin Cross the fields are green and still;        10
But once I hear the blackbird in Leighlin hedges call,
The foolishness is on me, and the wild tears fall!
 

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