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.