CHRIST THE COMRADE
By Padraic Colum
Christ, by Thine own darkened hour
Live within my heart and brain!
Let my hands not slip the rein.
Ah, how long ago it is
Since a comrade rode with me!
Now a moment let me see
Thyself, lonely in the dark,
Perfect, without wound or mark.
AN OLD WOMAN OF THE ROADS
By Padraic Colum
Oh, to have a little house,
To own the hearth and stool and all—
The heaped-up sods upon the fire,
The pile of turf against the wall!
To have a clock with weights and chains,
And pendulum swinging up and down!
A dresser filled with shining delph,
Speckled and white and blue and brown!
I could be busy all the day
Clearing and sweeping hearth and floor,
And fixing on their shelf again
My white and blue speckled store.
