| J. C. Squire, ed. A Book of Women’s Verse. 1921. | | | | The Little Waves of Breffny | | By Eva Gore-Booth (1870–1926) |
| | | THE GRAND road from the mountain goes shining to the sea, | |
| And there is traffic in it, and many a horse and cart; | |
| But the little roads of Cloonagh are dearer far to me, | |
| And the little roads of Cloonagh go rambling through my heart. | |
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| A great storm from the ocean goes shouting o’er the hill, | 5 |
| And there is glory in it and terror on the wind; | |
| But the haunted air of twilight is very strange and still, | |
| And the little winds of twilight are dearer to my mind. | |
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| The great waves of the Atlantic sweep storming on their way, | |
| Shining green and silver with the hidden herring shoal; | 10 |
| But the little waves of Breffny have drenched my heart in spray, | |
| And the little waves of Breffny go stumbling through my soul. | | | | |
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