(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939 / County Dublin / Ireland)

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Owen Aherne And His Dancers

A STRANGE thing surely that my Heart, when love had come unsought
Upon the Norman upland or in that poplar shade,
Should find no burden but itself and yet should be worn out.
It could not bear that burden and therefore it went mad.

Submitted: Tuesday, May 15, 2001
Edited: Tuesday, May 15, 2001


Read poems about / on: heart, love

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