William Yeats - The Collected Works in Verse and Prose of William Butler Yeats. Volume 3 of 8. The Countess Cathleen. The Land of Heart's Desire. The Unicorn from the Stars

When we are gone draw to the door and the bolt,
For, till we lost them half an hour ago,
Two gray horned owls hooted above our heads
Of terrors to come. Tympan and harp awake!
For though the world drift from us like a sigh,
Music is master of all under the moon;
And play ‘The Wind that blows by Cummen Strand.’

Impetuous heart, be still, be still:
Your sorrowful love may never be told;
Cover it up with a lonely tune.
He who could bend all things to His will
Has covered the door of the infinite fold
With the pale stars and the wandering moon.

Shut to the door and shut the woods away,
For, till they had vanished in the thick of the leaves,
Two gray horned owls hooted above our heads.

When wealthy and wise folk wander from their peace
And fear wood things, poor folk may draw the bolt
And pray before the fire.

The Mother of God,
Hushed by the waving of the immortal wings,
Has dropped in a doze and cannot hear the poor:
I passed by Margaret Nolan’s; for nine days
Her mouth was green with dock and dandelion;
And now they wake her.

I will go the next;
Our parents’ cabins bordered the same field.

God, and the Mother of God, have dropped asleep,
For they are weary of the prayers and candles;
But Satan pours the famine from his bag,
And I am mindful to go pray to him
To cover all this table with red gold.
Teig, will you dare me to it?

Not I, father.

O Shemus, hush, maybe your mind might pray
In spite o’ the mouth.

Two crowns and twenty pennies.

Is yonder quicken wood?

He swayed about,
And so I tied him to a quicken bough
And slung him from my shoulder.

Shemus! Shemus!
What, would you burn the blessed quicken wood?
A spell to ward off demons and ill faeries.
You know not what the owls were that peeped in,
For evil wonders live in this old wood,
And they can show in what shape please them best.
And we have had no milk to leave of nights
To keep our own good people kind to us.
And Aleel, who has talked with the great Sidhe,
Is full of terrors to come.

I would eat my supper
With no less mirth if squatting by the hearth
Were dulacaun or demon of the pit
Clawing its knees, its hoof among the ashes.

Who knows what evil you have brought to us?
I fear the wood things, Shemus.

Do not open.

A crown and twenty pennies are not enough
To stop the hole that lets the famine in.

Look! look!

The Mother of God has dropped asleep,
And all her household things have gone to wrack.

O Mary, Mother of God, be pitiful!

Have you food here?

For those who can pay well.

We are rich merchants seeking merchandise.

Come in, your honours.

No, do not come in:
We have no food, not even for ourselves.

There is a wolf on the big hook in the cupboard.

Forgive her: she is not used to quality,
And is half crazed with being much alone.
How did you know I had taken a young wolf?
Fine wholesome food, though maybe somewhat strong.

I would rest here: the night is somewhat chilly,
And my feet footsore going up and down
From land to land and nation unto nation:
The fire burns dimly; feed it with this bough.

What have you in the bags?

Don’t mind her, sir:
Women grow curious and feather-thoughted
Through being in each other’s company
More than is good for them.

Our bags are full
Of golden pieces to buy merchandise.

These are great gentlemen.

Come to the fire,
Here is the headiest wine you ever tasted.

Wine that can hush asleep the petty war
Of good and evil, and awake instead
A scented flame flickering above that peace
The bird of prey knows well in his deep heart.

I do not understand you, but your wine
Sets me athirst: its praise made your eyes lighten.
I am thirsting for it.

Ay, come drink and drink,
I bless all mortals who drink long and deep.
My curse upon the salt-strewn road of monks.

You must have seen rare sights and done rare things.