(ALEEL releases the ANGEL and kneels.)
OONA
Tell them who walk upon the floor of peaceThat I would die and go to her I love;The years like great black oxen tread the world,And God the herdsman goads them on behindAnd I am broken by their passing feet.
(A sound of far-off horns seems to come from the heart of the Light. The vision melts away, and the forms of the kneeling PEASANTS appear faintly in the darkness.)
THE ROSE
"Sero te amavi, Pulchritudo tam antiqua et tam nova! Sero te amavi."
TO LIONEL JOHNSON
TO THE ROSE UPON THE ROOD OF TIME
Red Rose, proud Rose, sad Rose of all my days!Come near me, while I sing the ancient ways:Cuchulain battling with the bitter tide;The Druid, gray, wood-nurtured, quiet-eyed,Who cast round Fergus dreams, and ruin untold;And thine own sadness, whereof stars, grown oldIn dancing silver sandalled on the sea,Sing in their high and lonely melody.Come near, that no more blinded by man's fate,I find under the boughs of love and hate,In all poor foolish things that live a day,Eternal beauty wandering on her way.
Come near, come near, come near – Ah, leave me stillA little space for the rose-breath to fill!Lest I no more hear common things that crave;The weak worm hiding down in its small cave,The field mouse running by me in the grass,And heavy mortal hopes that toil and pass;But seek alone to hear the strange things saidBy God to the bright hearts of those long dead,And learn to chaunt a tongue men do not know.Come near; I would, before my time to go,Sing of old Eire and the ancient ways:Red Rose, proud Rose, sad Rose of all my days.
FERGUS AND THE DRUID
FERGUS
The whole day have I followed in the rocks,And you have changed and flowed from shape to shape.First as a raven on whose ancient wingsScarcely a feather lingered, then you seemedA weasel moving on from stone to stone,And now at last you wear a human shape,A thin gray man half lost in gathering night.
DRUID
What would you, king of the proud Red Branch kings?
FERGUS
This would I say, most wise of living souls:Young subtle Concobar sat close by meWhen I gave judgment, and his words were wise,And what to me was burden without end,To him seemed easy, so I laid the crownUpon his head to cast away my care.
DRUID
What would you, king of the proud Red Branch kings?
FERGUS
I feast amid my people on the hill,And pace the woods, and drive my chariot wheelsIn the white border of the murmuring sea;And still I feel the crown upon my head.
DRUID
What would you?
FERGUS
I would be no more a kingBut learn the dreaming wisdom that is yours.
DRUID
Look on my thin gray hair and hollow cheeksAnd on these hands that may not lift the swordThis body trembling like a wind-blown reed.No woman loves me, no man seeks my help,Because I be not of the things I dream.
FERGUS
A wild and foolish labourer is a king,To do and do and do, and never dream.
DRUID
Take, if you must, this little bag of dreams;Unloose the cord, and they will wrap you round.
FERGUS
I see my life go dripping like a streamFrom change to change; I have been many things,A green drop in the surge, a gleam of lightUpon a sword, a fir-tree on a hill,An old slave grinding at a heavy quern,A king sitting upon a chair of gold,And all these things were wonderful and great;But now I have grown nothing, being all,And the whole world weighs down upon my heart:Ah! Druid, Druid, how great webs of sorrowLay hidden in the small slate-coloured bag!
THE DEATH OF CUCHULAIN
A man came slowly from the setting sun,To Forgail's daughter, Emer, in her dun,And found her dyeing cloth with subtle care,And said, casting aside his draggled hair:"I am Aleel, the swineherd, whom you bid"Go dwell upon the sea cliffs, vapour hid;"But now my years of watching are no more."
Then Emer cast the web upon the floor,And stretching out her arms, red with the dye,Parted her lips with a loud sudden cry.
Looking on her, Aleel, the swineherd, said:"Not any god alive, nor mortal dead,"Has slain so mighty armies, so great kings,"Nor won the gold that now Cuchulain brings."
"Why do you tremble thus from feet to crown?"
Aleel, the swineherd, wept and cast him downUpon the web-heaped floor, and thus his word:"With him is one sweet-throated like a bird."
"Who bade you tell these things?" and then she criedTo those about, "Beat him with thongs of hide"And drive him from the door."
And thus it was:And where her son, Finmole, on the smooth grassWas driving cattle, came she with swift feet,And called out to him, "Son, it is not meet"That you stay idling here with flocks and herds."
"I have long waited, mother, for those words:"But wherefore now?"
"There is a man to die;"You have the heaviest arm under the sky."
"My father dwells among the sea-worn bands,"And breaks the ridge of battle with his hands."
"Nay, you are taller than Cuchulain, son."
"He is the mightiest man in ship or dun."
"Nay, he is old and sad with many wars,"And weary of the crash of battle cars."
"I only ask what way my journey lies,"For God, who made you bitter, made you wise."
"The Red Branch kings a tireless banquet keep,"Where the sun falls into the Western deep."Go there, and dwell on the green forest rim;"But tell alone your name and house to him"Whose blade compels, and bid them send you one"Who has a like vow from their triple dun."
Between the lavish shelter of a woodAnd the gray tide, the Red Branch multitudeFeasted, and with them old Cuchulain dwelt,And his young dear one close beside him knelt,And gazed upon the wisdom of his eyes,More mournful than the depth of starry skies,And pondered on the wonder of his days;And all around the harp-string told his praise,And Concobar, the Red Branch king of kings,With his own fingers touched the brazen strings.At last Cuchulain spake, "A young man strays"Driving the deer along the woody ways."I often hear him singing to and fro,"I often hear the sweet sound of his bow,"Seek out what man he is."
One went and came."He bade me let all know he gives his name"At the sword point, and bade me bring him one"Who had a like vow from our triple dun."