Alice Furlong Poems

When you were weary, roaming the wide world, over,
I gave my fickle heart to a new lover.
Now they tell me that you are lying dead:
O mountains fall on me and hide my head!
...

I was milking in the meadow when I heard the Banshee Keening:
Little birds were in the nest, lambs were on the lea,
Upon the brow o' the Fairy-hill a round gold moon was leaning—
She parted from the esker as the Banshee keened for me.
...

I am jealous: I am true:
Sick at heart for love of you,
O my share of the world!
I am cold, O, cold as stone
To all men save you alone.
...

HAPPY the stark bare wood on the hill of Bree!
To its grey branch, green [symbol] the May: song after sigh:
Laughter of wings where the [symbol] went with a cry
My sorrow! Song after sigh comes not to me.
...