Thomas MacDonagh (Òîìàñ Ìàêäîíà)

The Philistine

I gave my poems to a man,
Who said that they were very great--
They showed just how my love began
And ended, but too intimate

To give to read to every one.
I took my book and left him there,
And went out where the sinking sun
Was calling stars into the air.

He thought that I had let them look
Privily in behind the bars,
Had sold my secret with a book--
I cursed him and I cursed the stars. 

1. To Eoghan
2. My Love To-night
3. Offering
4. The Seasons And The Leaves
5. O Bursting Bud Of Joy

Ðàñïå÷àòàòü ñòèõîòâîðåíèå (Poem to print)

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