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Home  »  Poetry: A Magazine of Verse  »  Moireen Fox a Cheavasa

Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.

Deirdre

Moireen Fox a Cheavasa

NOW thou art hidden, I have no place of rest.

Where should I sleep when the earth lies on thy heart?

The darkness had no peril when thy arms were round me, Naoise,

But where shall I hide from the night now that I am alone?

The stones that will cover my body are all I desire.

The light of the sun is a burden too heavy for me.

I would I could shut out all but the darkness wherein thou dwellest.

I that had more treasure than the great kings of the world—

I am bare to the wind, without shelter, without love.

Henceforth for ever I have nothing but grief and silence and weeping.