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Poem by Thomas MacDonagh


The Rain It Raineth


The homeless bird has a weary time
When the wind is high and moans through the grass:
The laughter has fainted out of my rime--
Oh! but the life that will moan and pass!

An oak-tree wrestling on the hill,
And the wind wailing in the grass--
And life will strive with many an ill
For many a weary day ere it pass--

Wailing, wailing a winter threne
In the clouds on high and low in the grass;
So for my soul will he raise the keen
When I from the winds and the winters pass.



Thomas MacDonagh


Thomas MacDonagh's other poems:
  1. Barbara: Born 24th March, 1915
  2. I Heard a Music Sweet To-day
  3. To a Wise Man
  4. In an Island
  5. A Song of Another. For Eoghan


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