Dora Sigerson Shorter

(1866-1918 / Ireland)

A Bird From The West - Poem by Dora Sigerson Shorter

At the grey dawn, amongst the falling leaves,
A little bird outside my window swung,
High on a topmost branch he trilled his song,
And ' Ireland! Ireland! Ireland!' ever sung.

“Take me,' I cried, 'back to my island home;
Sweet bird, my soul shall ride between thy wings ';
For my lone spirit wide his pinions spread, '
And home and home and home he ever sings.

We lingered over Ulster stern and wild.
I called: ' Arise! doth none remember me ?'
One turned in the darkness murmuring:
“How loud upon the breakers sobs the sea!'

We rested over Connaught—whispering said:
“Awake, awake, and welcome! I am here.'
One woke and shivered at the morning grey:
“The trees, I never heard them sigh so drear.'

We flew low over Munster. Long I wept:
“You used to love me, love me once again!'
They spoke from out the shadows wondering: ^
M You'd think of tears, so bitter falls the rain.' !|

Long over Leinster lingered we. ' Good-bye!
My best beloved, good-bye for evermore.' v^
Sleepless they tossed and whispered to the dawn;
“So sad a wind was never heard before.'

Was it a dream I dreamt ? For yet there swings
In the grey morn a bird upon the bough,
And ' Ireland! Ireland! Ireland!' ever sings.
Oh! fair the breaking day in Ireland now.


Comments about A Bird From The West by Dora Sigerson Shorter

There is no comment submitted by members..



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?



Poem Submitted: Wednesday, September 29, 2010



[Hata Bildir]