Thomas MacDonagh

1 February 1878 - 3 May 1916 / Cloughjordan / Ireland

A Song Of Another. For Eoghan

Often enough the leaves have fallen there
Since life for her was changed to other care;
Often enough the winds that swept the wave
And mocked my woe, have moaned over her grave.

I will return: Death now can do no more
Anywhere on these seas or on the shore,
Since he has stilled her heart. I cannot mourn
For her on these wild seas: I will return.

Death now can do no more. And what but Death
Has any final power? He ceased her breath,
Striking her dumb lips pallid; quenched the lights
That were, O Death, my stars of the wild nights
Out on rude ocean -- quenched and closed her eyes
That were, O Death, my stars of the dawn-rise!

Long years ago her quiet form was thrust
Into the quiet earth; low in the dust
Her golden hair lies tarnished every thread
These lone long years, tarnished and dim and dead.

I will return to the far valley, blest
With her soul's presence, now her home of rest--
(Where life was peace to her now death is peace)--
There by her grave my pilgrimage may cease;
There life, there death, in my vain heart shall stir
No passion but the old true love of her.
95 Total read