Joseph Mary Plunkett

(21 November 1887 – 4 May 1916 / Dublin / Ireland)

My Soul Is Sick With Longing - Poem by Joseph Mary Plunkett

My soul is sick with longing, shaken with loss,
Yea, shocked with love lost sudden in a dream,
Dream-love dream-taken, swept upon the stream
Of dreaming Truth, dreamt true, yet deemed as dross:
Dreamt Truth that is to waking Truth a gloss,
Dream-love that is to the life of loves that seem
To bear the rood of love’s eternal theme,
The strength that brings to Calvary their cross.

I dreamt that love had lit, a burning bird
On one green bough of Time, of that dread tree
Whereto my soul was crucified: that he
Sang with a seraphs voice some wondrous word
Blotting out pain, but swift the branch I heard
Break, withered, and the song ceased suddenly.


Comments about My Soul Is Sick With Longing by Joseph Mary Plunkett

  • Mohammed Asim Nehal (2/21/2016 1:43:00 PM)


    Nicely written poem...
    I dreamt that love had lit, a burning bird
    On one green bough of Time, of that dread tree
    (Report) Reply

    1 person liked.
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Poem Submitted: Friday, May 25, 2012

Poem Edited: Saturday, July 25, 2015


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