LUGH made a stir in the air With his sword of cries, And fairies thro' hidden ways Came from the skies, And their spells withered up the fair And vanquished the wise. And old lame Balor came down With his gorgon eye Hidden behind its lid, Old, withered and dry. He looked on the wattle town, And the town passed by. These things I know in my dreams, The crying sword of Lugh, And Balor's ancient eye Searching me through, Withering up my songs And my pipe yet new. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE TUFT OF FLOWERS by ROBERT FROST ON THE DEATH OF SIR THOMAS WYATT by HENRY HOWARD THE LOVER COMFORTETH HIMSELF WITH THE WORTHINESS OF HIS LOVE by HENRY HOWARD WHY THUS LONGING by HARRIET WINSLOW SEWALL SONNET: 109 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE |