Since your limbs were laid out The stars do not shine, The fish leap not out In the waves. On our meadows the dew Does not fall in the morn, For O'Daly is dead: Not a flower can be born,...
When the bright eyes of the day Open on the dusk, to see Mist and shadow fade away And the sun shine merrily, Then I leave my bed and run Out to frolic in the sun. ...
Be kind unto these three, O King! For they were fragrant-skinned, cheerful and giving; Three stainless pearls, three of mild, winning ways, Three candles sending forth three pleasant rays,...
Through the air, Everywhere, the rain is falling; Brawling on house and tree: On every place that you can see The rain drops go; The roofs are wet, the walls, the ground below. ...
The hill is bare: I only find The grass, the sky, and one small tree Tossing wildly on the wind; And that is all there is to see: A tree, a hill, a wind, a sky Where nothing ever passes by.