Page:The Tricolour, Poems of the Irish Revolution.djvu/60

From Wikisource
Jump to navigation Jump to search
This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.

OURSELVES ALONE[1]

One morning, when dreaming in deep meditation,
I met a sweet colleen a-making her moan.
With sighing and sobbing she cried and lamented;
“Oh, where is my lost one, and where has he flown?

“My house it is small, and my field is but little,
Yet round flew my wheel as I sat in the sun,
He crossed the deep sea and went forth for my battle:
Oh, has he proved faithless—the fight is not won?”

And then I said: “Kathleen, ah! do you remember
When you were a queen, and your castles were strong,

  1. Sinn Fein Amhain.

44