I AM sitting here <br />Since the moon rose in the night, <br />Kindling a fire, <br />And striving to keep it alight; <br />The folk of the house are lying <br />In slumber deep; <br />The geese will be gabbling soon: <br />The whole of the land is asleep. <br /> <br />May I never leave this world <br />Until my ill-luck is gone; <br />Till I have cows and sheep, <br />And the lad that I love for my own; <br />I would not think it long, <br />The night I would lie at his breast, <br />And the daughters of spite, after that, <br />Might say the thing they liked best. <br /> <br />Love takes the place of hate, <br />If a girl have beauty at all: <br />On a bed that was narrow and high, <br />A three-month I lay by the wall: <br />When I bethought on the lad <br />That I left on the brow of the hill, <br />I wept from dark until dark, <br />And my cheeks have the tear-tracks still. <br /> <br />And, O young lad that I love, <br />I am no mark for your scorn; <br />All you can say of me is <br />Undowered I was born: <br />And if I've no fortune in hand, <br />Nor cattle and sheep of my own, <br />This I can say, O lad, <br />I am fitted to lie my lone!<br /><br />Padraic Colum<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-poor-girl-s-meditation/
