The Irish FairiesAuthor(s): Joseph CampbellSource: Poetry, Vol. 3, No. 2 (Nov., 1913), pp. 49-50Published by: Poetry FoundationStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/20569921 .

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THE IRISH FAIRIES

When Eber came to Kerry, When Guaire gave his gold,

Then were we young and merry Who now are old.

The green and the gray places, Then were they green and gray:

We saw but shining faces And open day.

We saw but shining faces, The sickle moon of night,

White queens in royal places, And jewels bright.

We heard but beauty spoken, Red war and passion sung,

Music on harp-strings broken, When we were young.

What is the morning plougher To us, whose ancient dream

Is as a fallen flower Upon a stream?

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POETRY: A Magazine of Verse

The glen travails with ploughing That once was green and still:

The sower follows sowing Over the hill.

THE PIJCA

The Puca's come again, Who long was hid away In cave or twilight glen: Too shy, too proud to play Under the eye of day.

I saw him dance and skip But now in the beech wood, Wild rhymes upon his lip And laughter in his blood. I envied him his grip Upon the sunny mood.

Then altered he his note To one of weariness: He shook his hairy coat, The double of distress, And cried deep in his throat For gall and bitterness.

[50]

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