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lirik lagu micheál macliammóir - to ireland in the coming times

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know, that i would accounted be
true brother of a company
that sang, to sweeten ireland’s wrong
ballad and story, rann and song;
nor be i any less of them
because the red~rose~bordered hem
of her, whose history began
before god made the angelic clan
trails all about the written page
when time began to rant and rage
the measure of her flying feet
made ireland’s heart begin to beat;
and time bade all his candles flare
to light a measure here and there;
and may the thoughts of ireland brood
upon a measured quietude

nor may i less be counted one
with davis, mangan, ferguson
because, to him who ponders well
my rhymes more than their rhyming tell
of things discovered in the deep
where only body’s laid asleep
for the elemental creatures go
about my table to and fro
that hurry from unmeasured mind
to rant and rage in flood and wind;
yet he who treads in measured ways
may surely barter gaze for gaze
man ever journeys on with them
after the red~rose~bordered hem
ah, faeries, dancing under the moon
a druid land, a druid tune!
while still i may, i write for you
the love i lived, the dream i knew
from our birthday, until we die
is but the winking of an eye;
and we, our singing and our love
what measurer time has lit above
and all benighted things that go
about my table to and fro
are passing on to where may be
in truth’s consuming ecstasy
no place for love and dream at all;
for god goes by with white footfall
i cast my heart into my rhymes
that you, in the dim coming times
may know how my heart went with them
after the red~rose~bordered hem


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