Poem by William Watson

Ireland

(DECEMBER 1, 1890)

In the wild and lurid desert, in the thunder-travelled ways,
'Neath the night that ever hurries to the dawn that still delays,
There she clutches at illusions, and she seeks a phantom goal
With the unattaining passion that consumes the unsleeping soul:
And calamity enfolds her, like the shadow of a ban,
And the niggardness of Nature makes the misery of man:
And in vain the hand is stretched to lift her, stumbling in the gloom,
While she follows the mad fen-fire that conducts her to her doom. 

1. Lux Perdita
2. On Exaggerated Deference to Foreign Literary Opinion
3. The Glimpse
4. The Ballad of the “Britain's Pride”
5. Life without Health

Dora Sigerson Shorter Ireland ("'Twas the dream of a God")

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