Poem by Clinton Scollard

Etching at Night

I wandered in the streets of Galway-town,
When night had let her dusky curtains down,
And in a doorway, tall and fair and slight,
Framed by an inner beam of golden light,
Beheld a maiden of madonna face,
Pensive and sad, yet with a nameless grace,
Presage, I thought, of the unfolding years,
That hide some things that are too deep for tears!

1. The Mist and the Sea
2. The Way of the Cross
3. The Wind of Mourne
4. The Hunter
5. The Tides

Print

1189 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version