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Cheerful, Joseph Campbell, in English Clear filters

CheerfulJoseph Campbell

Ciaran, the Master of Horses and Lands

Ciaran, the master of horses and lands, Once had no more than the horn on his hands. But Ciaran is rich now, and Ciaran is great, And rides with the air of a squire of estate. O Christ! and to see the man up on the back Of a thoroughbred stallion, a bay or a black! There's not a horsebreeder from Banna to Laoi Can handle the snaffle so pretty as he! And Ciaran, for all, has the wit of a child, A heart just as soft, and an eye just as mild. No maker of ballads puts curse at his door: He handsels the singer, and harbours the poor. For Ciaran, the master of horses and lands, Once had no more than the horn on his hands.
CheerfulJoseph Campbell

Dead Oakleaves Everywhere

Dead oakleaves everywhere Under my feet, Filling the forest air With odours sweet. Acorns, three, four and five, Falling apace. Thank God I am alive This day of grace!
CheerfulJoseph Campbell

Black Sile of the Silver Eye

As I rode down to Gartan fair I met a girl upon the way: The winter night was on her hair, The summer dawn was in her eye. And O, she stepped with such a gait, And bore her round black head so high, And tossed it so, I knew her straight For Sile of the Silver Eye. "God save you, Sile, love," says I: "God save you kindly," murmured she-- And love was welling in her eye As she dropped me the courtesy. The mountain boys upon the road Were at themselves for jealousy When they saw Seamus win the nod From Sile of the Silver Eye.
CheerfulJoseph Campbell

Three Colts Exercising in a Six-Acre

Three colts exercising in a six-acre, A hilly sweep of unfenced grass over the road. What a picture they make against the skyline! Necks stretched, hocks moving royally, tails flying; Farm-lads up, and they crouching low on their withers. I have a journey to go-- A lawyer to see, and a paper to sign in the Tontine-- But I slacken my pace to watch them.
CheerfulJoseph Campbell

I Wish and I Wish

I wish and I wish And I wish I were A golden bee In the blue of the air, Winging my way At the mouth of day To the honey marges Of Loch-ciuin-ban; Or a little green drake, Or a silver swan, Floating upon The stream of Aili, And I to be swimming Gaily, gaily!
CheerfulJoseph Campbell

A Line's a Speech

A line's a speech; So here's a line To say this pedlar's pack Of mine Is not a book-- But a journey thro' Mountainy places, Ever in view Of the sea and the fields, With the rough wind Blowing over the leagues Behind!

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