The old brown thorn trees break in two high over Cummen Strand Under a bitter black wind that blows from the left hand, Our courage breaks like an old tree in a black wind and dies; But we have hidden in our hearts the flame out of the eyes Of Cathleen, the daughter of Houlihan. The wind has bundled up the clouds high over Knocknarea And thrown the thunder on the stones for all that Maeve can say. Angers that are like noisy clouds have set our hearts abeat; But we have all bent low and low and kissed the quiet feet Of Cathleen, the daughter of Houlihan. The yellow pool has overflowed high up on Clooth-na-Bare, For the wet winds are blowing out of the clinging air; Like heavy flooded waters our bodies and our blood; But purer than a tall candle before the Holy Rood Is Cathleen, the daughter of Houlihan. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WAY THROUGH THE WOODS by RUDYARD KIPLING THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 50. WILLOWWOOD (2) by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI THE MOCKING-BIRD by FRANK LEBBY STANTON IN FESTUBERT by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN SORROW AND JOY by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES TO ---- ----. (2) by MARY BRYAN VERSES: THE SIXTH BOY by JOHN BYROM |