Voices of our sullen North <br />waylay the splendid lyrics <br />he breathed on sibilant airwaves. <br /> <br />From him they arose and were gone, <br />while my harsh Ulster vowels <br />threaten the placid harmonies <br />with discordant rendering. <br /> <br />When the quiet fills my head, those <br />English words from his Irish heart <br />tumble and dance once again; <br />old children to a new mother.<br /><br />James Mills<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/mr-yeats-on-the-radio/
