Take on the voice half-lingering
And bring the fire back within—
For she has never heard it yet
In all her island loveliness:
Though years have passed, and many tears,
But now cold sorrow brings no more.
Moving in a strange undreamed of way
They lost their dreamy idleness
And found their fragile child in pain:
So weak with the preparing
Which was no more than sharing
The swift eclipse around him.
And after the disgrace
Their only sin was shown
On her dark silent face.
Sad Irish girl, be proud; be free:
Give him the symphony of life, not me.
His legendary gold can burn
In your young breast.