Balva the old monk I am called: when I was young, Balva Honeymouth. That was before Colum the White came to Iona in the West. She whom I loved was a woman whom I won out of the South, And I had a good heaven with my lips on hers and with breast to breast. Balva the old monk I am called: were it not for the fear That the soul of Colum the White would meet my soul in the Narrows That sever the living and dead, I would rise up from here And go back to where men pray with spears and arrows. Balva the old monk I am called: ugh! ugh! the cold bell of the matins—'tis dawn! Sure it's a dream I have had that I was in a warm wood with the sun ashine, And that against me in the pleasant greenness was a soft fawn, And a voice that whispered "Balva Honeymouth, drink, I am thy wine!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ACCIDENT IN ART by RICHARD HOVEY AN ODE TO HIMSELF by BEN JONSON PHANTOMS ALL by HARRIET PRESCOTT SPOFFORD GREAT BELL ROLAND; SUGGESTED BY PRESIDENT'S CALL VOLUNTEERS by THEODORE TILTON COMPLAINS OF THE COURT by PHILIP AYRES JESUS - THE KING IN HIS BEAUTY by BERNARD OF CLAIRVAUX CLEVEDON VERSES: 4. CUI BONO? by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN |