Page:The Criterion - Volume 4.djvu/104

DYSERT

By L. ST. SENAN

Grayer than the tide below, the tower;
The day is gray above;
About the walls
A curlew flies, calls;
Rain threatens, west;
This hour,
Driving,
I thought of how this land so desolate,
Long, long ago was rich in living—
More reckless, consciously, in strife,
More conscious daring-delicate
In love.

And then the tower veered
Grayly to me,
Passed. . . .
I meditated—
Feared
The thought experience sent,
That the gold years
Of Limerick life
Might be but consecrated
Lie,
Heroic lives
So often merely meant
The brave stupidity of soldiers,
The proud stupidity of soldiers’ wives.

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