A Connaught Lament
Nora Hopper Chesson
1871 to 1906
Track 1
Reconstruct the poem by dragging each line into its correct position. You can also use the up (↑) and down (↓) arrows to move a line one place at a time, or the top (⇑) and bottom (⇓) arrows to move a line directly to the top or bottom. Your goal is to reassemble the original poem as accurately as possible. As you move the lines, you'll see whether your arrangement is correct, helping you explore the poem's flow and meaning. You can also print out the jumbled poem to cut up and reassemble in the classroom. Either way, take your time, enjoy the process, and discover how the poet's words come together to create something truly beautiful.
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Because of the words your lips have spoken,
Of my own love's footstep would break my rest!
O lips forgetful and kindness fickle,
Where fields are empty and scythes at rest.
(O dear black head that I must not follow)
My heart in my bosom is black as a sloe!
I am the poppy and you the sickle;
My heart is a grave that is stripped and hollow,
As ice on the water my heart is broken.
But O were I dead, were I dust, the fall
The swallow goes south with you: I go west
Like a flying leaf in the sky's blue hollow
The heart in my breast is, that beats so low.
My heart is broken within my breast.
I heed not cuckoo, nor wren, nor swallow:
I will arise and go hence to the west,
And dig me a grave where the hill-winds call;
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