The Adventures of Seumas Beg; The Rocky Road to Dublin

Breakfast Time

The sun is always in the sky Whenever I get out of bed, And I often wonder why It's never late.--My sister said She did not know who did the trick, And that she did not care a bit, And I should eat my porridge quick. ... I think it's mother wakens it.

In the Orchard

There was a giant by the Orchard Wall Peeping about on this side and on that, And feeling in the trees: he was as tall As the big apple tree, and twice as fat: His beard was long, and bristly-black, and there Were leaves and bits of grass stuck in his hair.

He held a great big club in his right hand, And with the other felt in every tree For something that he wanted. You could stand Beside him and not reach up to his knee So mighty big he was--I feared he would Turn round, and trample down to where I stood.

I tried to get away, but, as I slid Under a bush, he saw me, and he bent Far down and said, "_Where is the Princess hid?_" I pointed to a place, and off he went-- But while he searched I turned and simply flew Round by the lilac bushes back to you.

Day and Night

When the bright eyes of the day Open on the dusk, to see Mist and shadow fade away And the sun shine merrily, Then I leave my bed and run Out to frolic in the sun.

Through the sunny hours I play Where the stream is wandering, Plucking daisies by the way; And I laugh and dance and sing, While the birds fly here and there Singing on the sunny air.

When the night comes, cold and slow, And the sad moon walks the sky, When the whispering wind says "_Boh, Little boy!_" and makes me cry, By my mother I am led Home again and put to bed.

The Devil's Bag

I saw the Devil walking down the lane Behind our house.--There was a heavy bag Strapped tightly on his shoulders, and the rain Sizzled when it hit him. He picked a rag Up from the ground and put it in his sack, And grinned and rubbed his hands. There was a thing Moving inside the bag upon his back-- It must have been a soul! I saw it fling And twist about inside, and not a hole Or cranny for escape! Oh, it was sad! I cried, and shouted out, "_Let out that soul!_" But he turned round, and, sure, his face went mad, And twisted up and down, and he said "_Hell!_" And ran away.... Oh, mammy! I'm not well.

A Visit From Abroad

A speck went blowing up against the sky As little as a leaf: then it drew near And broadened.--"It's a bird," said I, And fetched my bow and arrows. It was queer! It grew up from a speck into a blot, And squattered past a cloud; then it flew down All crumply, and waggled such a lot I thought the thing would fall.--It was a brown Old carpet where a man was sitting snug Who, when he reached the ground, began to sew A big hole in the middle of the rug, And kept on peeping everywhere to know Who might be coming--then he gave a twist And flew away.... I fired at him but missed.

The Wood of Flowers

I went to the Wood of Flowers (No one was with me); I was there alone for hours. I was happy as could be In the Wood of Flowers.

There was grass on the ground, There were buds on the tree, And the wind had a sound Of such gaiety, That I was as happy As happy could be, In the Wood of Flowers.

The White Window

The moon comes every night to peep Through the window where I lie, And I pretend to be asleep; But I watch the moon as it goes by, And it never makes a sound.

It stands and stares, and then it goes To the house that's next to me, Stealing on its tippy-toes, To peep at folk asleep maybe; And it never makes a sound.

Midnight

And then I wakened up in such a fright; I thought I heard a movement in the room But did not dare to look; I snuggled right Down underneath the bedclothes--then the boom Of a tremendous voice said, "_Sit up, lad, And let me see your face._" So up I sat, Although I didn't want to. I was glad I did though, for it was an angel that Had called me, and he said, he'd come to know Was I the boy who wouldn't say his prayers Nor do his sums, and that I'd have to go Straight down to hell because of such affairs. ... I said I'd be converted and do good If he would let me off--he said he would.

April Showers

The leaves are fresh after the rain, The air is cool and clear, The sun is shining warm again, The sparrows hopping in the lane Are brisk and full of cheer.

And that is why we dance and play, And that is why we sing, Calling out in voices gay, We will not go to school to-day Or learn anything:

It is a happy thing, I say, To be alive on such a day.

The Turn of the Road

I was playing with my hoop along the road Just where the bushes are, when, suddenly, There came a shout.--I ran away and stowed Myself beneath a bush, and watched to see What made the noise, and then, around the bend, I saw a woman running. She was old And wrinkle-faced, and had big teeth.--The end Of her red shawl caught on a bush and rolled Right off her, and her hair fell down.--Her face Was awful white, and both her eyes looked sick, And she was talking queer. "_O God of Grace!_" Said she, "_where is the child?_" and flew back quick The way she came, and screamed, and shook her hands; ... Maybe she was a witch from foreign lands.

The Coral Island

His arms were round a chest of oaken wood, It was clamped with brass and iron studs, and seemed An awful weight. After a while he stood And I stole near to him.--His white eyes gleamed As he peeped secretly about; he laid The oaken chest upon the ground, then drew A great knife from his belt, and stuck the blade Into the ground and dug. The clay soon flew In all directions underneath a tree, And when the hole was deep he put the box Down there, and threw the clay back cunningly, Stamping the ground quite flat; then like a fox He crept among the trees.... I went next day To dig the treasure up, but I lost my way.

The Cow

Cow, Cow! I and thou Are looking at each other's eyes You are lying on the grass Eating every time I pass, And you do not seem to be Ever in perplexity: You are good I'm sure, and not Fit for nothing but the pot: For your bearing is so kind, And your quietness so wise: Cow, Cow! I and thou Are looking at each other's eyes.

The Old Man

An old man sat beneath a tree Alone; So still was he That, if he had been carved in stone, He could not be More quiet or more cold: He was an ancient man More than A thousand ages old.

What the Snake Saw

A little girl and a big ugly man Went down the road. The girl was crying And asking to go home, but when she ran He hit her on the head and sent her flying, And called her a young imp, and said he'd break Her neck unless she went with him, and then He smacked her on the cheek.--I was a snake At that time crawling through a robber's den, And diamonds were sticking to my tongue-- (That's the best dodge), but when I saw the way He beat the little girl I up and flung A stone at him. My aim was bad that day Because I hit the girl ... and she did sing! But he jumped round and cursed like anything.

The Horse

A sparrow hopped about the street, And he was not a bit afraid; He flew between a horse's feet, And ate his supper undismayed: I think myself the horse knew well The bird came for the grains that fell.

For his eye was looking down, And he danced the corn about In his nose-bag, till the brown Grains of corn were tumbled out; And I fancy that he said, "Eat it up, young Speckle-Head!"

The driver then came back again, He climbed into the heavy dray; And he tightened up the rein, Cracked his whip and drove away. But when the horse's ribs were hit, The sparrow did not care a bit.

The Apple Tree

I was hiding in the crooked apple tree, Scouting for Indians, when a man came; I thought it was an Indian, for he Was running like the wind.--There was a flame Of sunlight on his hand as he drew near, And then I saw a knife gripped in his fist. He panted like a horse; his eyes were queer, Wide-open, staring frightfully, and, hist! His mouth stared open like another eye, And all his hair was matted down with sweat. I crouched among the leaves for fear he'd spy Where I was hiding, so he did not get His awful eyes on me, but like the wind He fled as if he heard something behind.

The Appointment

Tree! you are years standing there, Gripping tight to the side of the hill, And your branches are spread on the air, While you stand so sad and so still, And you do not complain When you're wet with the rain, Though I think you have often been ill.

I would like (but it could not be done, So you must not keep me to my word) To take you away when the sun Goes down, and the breezes are stirred, And hug you in bed With myself, till you said That to sleep on a hill was absurd.

O beautiful tree! when the night Is dark, and the winds come and scold, I would love then to cuddle you tight, For I fear you will die of the cold; But you are so tall, And my bed is so small, That it could not be done, I am told.

My mother is calling for me, And the baby is wanting to play, I shall have to go home now, you see, But I'll give you a kiss if I may: I would stay if I could, But a child must be good, So I must, darling tree, go away.

I will leave you my pencil and slate, And this little pin from my frock; But now I must go, for it's late, And my mother is rattling the lock: So good-bye, darling dear, I'll come back, never fear, In the morning at seven o'clock.

Check

The night was creeping on the ground; She crept and did not make a sound Until she reached the tree, and then She covered it, and stole again Along the grass beside the wall.

I heard the rustle of her shawl As she threw blackness everywhere Upon the sky and ground and air, And in the room where I was hid: But no matter what she did To everything that was without, She could not put my candle out.

So I stared at the night, and she Stared back solemnly at me.

When I Was Young

I will not know when I am dead If sun or moon is overhead; I'll stretch out flat without a sound Inside a box beneath the ground, And never rise again to see Branches lifting on a tree, Nor hear the song the finches sing In the spring.

I'll not, while sunny ages go, Lift a hand or wag a toe; But in a wooden box will be Hidden for eternity From sea and sun, from sight and sound, From touch of people, voice of friend, From all that makes my heart to bound, Denying such an end: It is so strange--I wonder why People die!

The Patriot's Bed

When a son you shall desire, Pray to water and to fire; But when you would have a daughter, Pray to fire and then to water.