And things that die, imperishable dreams?

{18}

OUR HOMELAND[1]

Ours was a land of green and gold;

Ours

More gold than green, when every fold

Of down and upland was a blaze

Of furze in bloom on April days.

But when the summer-time was o’er,

And fields of corn against the moor

Waved gold on purple, and a haze

Of sunlight filled the woodland ways,

And far-off mountain boundaries

Made azure lines on azure skies,

[1] Here, and in the other poems of this volume, with few exceptions, the country described is the south-west of Ireland.{19}

[1]

{19}

And earth and heaven together drew,

Ours was a land of gold and blue.

Yet sometimes, just at evenfall,

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