Ceol-Sidhe

Nora Hopper Chesson

Nora Hopper Chesson portrait

1871 to 1906

Poem Image
Track 1

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But the dawn through the rushes glancing
Till the dew's away.
It sighed and was sweeter yet,
Sweet, sweet is the twilight dancing,
Where, scarlet-clad,
For joy that died —
Feeds Saav, the doe.
There never was any music
For night or day,
It came like the wind, and lightly
To dance, and be never weary
Like odours of thyme one crushes
To dance with no thought of grieving
With the kindliest folk of Eri
More fine and clear than the piping
And when silence took the piping,
And under the oaks, unstricken,
Drove my dream away.
Wild dancers gather and go,
And falter and fade away,
So sweet and tender and gay,
In the golden throat of a bird,
Cry through the Heart Lake's rushes,
And her heavy fret.
That in dreams I heard
It laughed and it grew not weary,
All under the druid quicken,
There never was any piping
So merry and none so sad,
It sang for the hope of Eri
It blew away —
It's O to be there," I cried,
There never was any piping
For it sang of a far green island
In the heat of the day.
Not sweet is the homespun day.

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Poet portrait