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Poem by William Ernest Henley


In the Dials


To Garryowen upon an organ ground
Two girls are jigging.  Riotously they trip,
With eyes aflame, quick bosoms, hand on hip,
As in the tumult of a witches round.
Youngsters and youngsters round them prance and bound.
Two solemn babes twirl ponderously, and skip.
The artists teeth gleam from his bearded lip.
High from the kennel howls a tortured hound.
The music reels and hurtles, and the night
Is full of stinks and cries; a naphtha-light
Flares from a barrow; battered and obtused
With vices, wrinkles, life and work and rags,
Each with her inch of clay, two loitering hags
Look on dispassionatecriticalsomething mused.



William Ernest Henley


William Ernest Henley's other poems:
  1. Echoes. 30. Kate-a-Whimsies, John-a-Dreams
  2. London Voluntaries. 4. Largo e Mesto
  3. In Hospital. 11. Clinical
  4. In Hospital. 9. Lady-Probationer
  5. In Hospital. 5. Operation


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