Verse > Anthologies > The World’s Best Poetry > Vol. VIII. National Spirit
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Bliss Carman, et al., eds.  The World’s Best Poetry.
Volume VIII. National Spirit.  1904.
 
I. Patriotism
A Spinning Song
John Francis O’Donnell (1837–1874)
 
    MY love to fight the Saxon goes,
      And bravely shines his sword of steel;
    A heron’s feather decks his brows,
      And a spur on either heel;
    His steed is blacker than the sloe,        5
      And fleeter than the falling star;
    Amid the surging ranks he ’ll go
      And shout for joy of war.
Twinkle, twinkle, pretty spindle; let the white wool drift and dwindle.
  Oh! we weave a damask doublet for my love’s coat of steel.        10
Hark! the timid, turning treadle crooning soft, old-fashioned ditties
  To the low, slow murmur of the brown round wheel.
 
    My love is pledged to Ireland’s fight;
      My love would die for Ireland’s weal,
    To win her back her ancient right,        15
      And make her foemen reel.
    Oh! close I ’ll clasp him to my breast
      When homeward from the war he comes;
    The fires shall light the mountain’s crest,
      The valley peal with drums.        20
Twinkle, twinkle, pretty spindle; let the white wool drift and dwindle.
  Oh! we weave a damask doublet for my love’s coat of steel.
Hark! the timid, turning treadle crooning soft old-fashioned ditties
  To the low, slow murmur of the brown round wheel.
 
 
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