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 and speckled store!
I could be quiet there at night
Beside the fire and by myself,
Sure of a bed and loath to leave
The ticking clock and shining delph!
Och! But I'm weary of mist and dark,
And roads where there's never a house nor bush
And tired I am of bog and road,
And the crying wind and the lonesome hush!
And I am praying to God on high
And I am praying him night and day,
For a little house, a house of my own-
Out of the wind's and rain's way.
by padraic colum (Irish poet)
No comments:
Post a Comment