Poem by Thomas MacDonagh

In the Storm

With laughing eyes and storm-blown hair
    You came to my bedside;
I thought your living soul was there,
    And that my dreams had lied;

But ere my lips had power to speak
    A word of love to you,
The moonlight fell upon your cheek,
    And it was of death's hue.

Sudden I heard the storm arise,
    I heard its summons roll:
Wistful and wondering your eyes
    Were fading from my soul.

The moonlight waned, and shadows thick
    Went keening on the storm--
Ah! for the quiet that was quick,
    The cold heart that was warm!

1. To a Wise Man
2. Of the Man of My First Play
3. Dublin Tramcars
4. Cormac Óg
5. The Philistine

Madison Cawein In the Storm ("Over heaven clouds are drifted")

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