Red Hanrahan’s Song about Ireland

The old brown thom-trees break in two high over Cummen Strand, / Under a bitter black wind ..nat blows from the left hand; / Our courage breaks like an old tree in a black wind and dies, / But we have hidden in our hearts the flame out of the eyes / Of Cathleen, the daughter of Houlihan. // The wind has bundled up the clouds high over Knocknarea, / And thrown the thunder on the stones for all that Maeve can say. / Angers that are like noisy clouds have set our hearts abeat; / But we have all bent low and low and kissed the quiet feet / Of Cathleen, the daughter of Houlihan. // The yellow pool has overflowed high up on Clooth-na-Bare, / For the wet winds are blowing out of the clinging air; / Like heavy flooded waters our bodies and our blood; / But purer than a tall candle before the Holy Rood / Is Cathleen, the daughter of Houlihan.