(A Lament for the Irish Jacobites.) <br /> <br />I have heard the curlew crying <br />On a lonely moor and mere; <br />And the sea-gull's shriek in the gloaming <br />Is a lonely sound in the ear: <br />And I've heard the brown thrush mourning <br />For her children stolen away;-- <br />But it's O for the homeless Wild Geese <br />That sailed ere the dawn of day! <br /> <br />For the curlew out on the moorland <br />Hath five fine eggs in the nest; <br />And the thrush will get her a new love <br />And sing her song with the best. <br />As the swallow flies to the Summer <br />Will the gull return to the sea: <br />But never the wings of the Wild Geese <br />Will flash over seas to me. <br /> <br />And 'tis ill to be roaming, roaming <br />With homesick heart in the breast! <br />And how long I've looked for your coming, <br />And my heart is the empty nest! <br />O sore in the land of the stranger <br />They'll pine for the land far away! <br />But day of Aughrim, my sorrow, <br />It was you was the bitter day!<br /><br />Katharine Tynan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/wild-geese-3/
