Michael Robartes and the Dancer/Under Saturn

​

UNDER SATURN

Do not because this day I have grown saturnineImagine that some lost love, unassailableBeing a portion of my youth, can make me pineAnd so forget the comfort that no words can tellYour coming brought; though I acknowledge I have goneOn a fantastic ride, my horses flanks were spurred:By childish memories of an old cross Pollexfen,And of a Middleton, whose name you never heard,And of a red-haired Yeats whose looks, although he diedBefore my time, seem like a vivid memory.You heard that labouring manwho had served my people. He saidUpon the open road, near to the Sligo quay—No, no, not said, but cried it out—“You have come againAnd surely after twenty years it was time to come.”I am thinking of a child’s vow sworn in vainNever to leave that valley his fathers called their home.

November, 1919.

This article is issued from Wikisource. The text is available under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 unless otherwise noted. Additional terms may apply for the media files.