To the Oaks of Glencree / J. M. Synge

My arms are round you, and I lean 

Against you, while the lark 

Sings over us, and golden lights, and green 

Shadows are on your bark. 

There'll come a season when you'll stretch

Black boards to cover me; 

Then in Mount Jerome I will lie, poor wretch, 

With worms eternally.

Queens / J. M. Synge

Seven dog-days we let pass

Naming Queens in Glenmacnass,

All the rare and royal names

Wormy sheepskin yet retains,

Etain, Helen, Maeve, and Fand,

Golden Deirdre's tender hand,

Bert, the big-foot, sung by Villon,

Cassandra, Ronsard found in Lyon.

In Kerry / J. M. Synge

He heard the thrushes by the shore and sea,

And saw the golden star's nativity,

Then round we went the lane by Thomas Flynn,

Across the church where bones lie out and in;

And there I asked beneath a lonely cloud

Of strange delight, with one bird singing loud,

What change you'd wrought in graveyard, rock and sea,

Danny / J. M. Synge

One night a score of Erris men,

A score I'm told and nine,

Said, "We'll get shut of Danny's noise

Of girls and widows dyin'.

"There's not his like from Binghamstown

To Boyle and Ballycroy,

At playing hell on decent girls,

At beating man and boy.

Beg-Innish / J. M. Synge

Bring Kateen-beug and Maurya Jude

To dance in Beg-Innish,

And when the lads (they're in Dunquin)

Have sold their crabs and fish,

Wave fawny shawls and call them in,

And call the little girls who spin,

And seven weavers from Dunquin,

To dance in Beg-Innish.

A Wish / J. M. Synge

May seven tears in every week,

Touch the hollow of you cheek,

That I - signed with such a dew -

For the Lion's share may sue

Of roses ever curled

Round the may-pole of the world.

Heavy riddles lie in this,

Sorrow's sauce for every kiss.