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The Unappeasable Host
| The Danaan children laugh, in cradles of wrought gold, | | And clap their hands together, and half close
their eyes, | | For they will ride the North when the ger-eagle flies, | | With heavy whitening wings, and a heart
fallen cold: | | I kiss my wailing child and press it to my breast, | | And hear the narrow graves calling my
child and me. | | Desolate winds that cry over the wandering sea; | | Desolate winds that hover in the flaming
West; | | Desolate winds that beat the doors of Heaven, and beat | | The doors of Hell and blow there many
a whimpering ghost; | | O heart the winds have shaken, the unappeasable host | | Is comelier than candles at
Mother Mary’s feet. |
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By PanEris
using Melati.
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