8:30 pm |
Into The Twilight
Out-Worn heart, in a time out-worn,
Come clear of the nets of wrong and right;
Laugh, heart, again in the grey twilight,
Sigh, heart, again in the dew of the morn.
Your mother Eire is aways young,
Dew ever shining and twilight grey;
Though hope fall from you and love decay,
Burning in fires of a slanderous tongue.
Come, heart, where hill is heaped upon hill:
For there the mystical brotherhood
Of sun and moon and hollow and wood
And river and stream work out their will;
And God stands winding His lonely horn,
And time and the world are ever in flight;
And love is less kind than the grey twilight,
And hope is less dear than the dew of the morn.
~ William Butler Yeats
~ William Butler Yeats
I can really imagine this scene being played out in the wild west of Ireland.
ReplyDeleteLove the silhouette and blur. Colour is great too. The poem a bit more cheerful.
ReplyDeleteI know a lot of Yeats, but not that one. I love it maudlin quality. The text and the image are at one in this post.
ReplyDeleteQuite wonderful matching.
I also like the clump of seeding grass, centre stage.
I knew Yeats would bring you in Julie!
ReplyDelete