SONGS FROM THE YOUNG COUNTRYMAN.

Otago Witness, Issue 3830, 9 August 1927, Page 74

SONGS FROM THE YOUNG COUNTRYMAN.

I Though nurtured like the sailing moon In. beauty’s murderous brood, She walked awhile and blushed awhile And on my pathway stood, Until I thought her body bore A heart of flesh and blood. But since I laid a hand thereon And found a heart of stone, I have attempted many things And not a thing is done:. For every hand is lunatic That travels on the moon. She smiled and that transfigured mo And left he but a lout, Maundering here and maundering there, Emptier of thought Than heavenly circuits of its stars When the moon sails out. II Lika the moon her kindness is, If kindness I may call What has not comprehension in’t: But is the same for all; As though my sorrow were a scene Upon a painted wall. So like a bit of stone I lie Under a broken tree, I could recover if I shriek My heart’s agony To passing bird, but I am dumb From human dignity. 111 A mermaid found a swimming lad Picked him for her own, Pressed her body to his body Laughed, and, plunging down, Forgot in cruel happiness That even lovers drown. —W. B. Yeats, in the London Mercury.