A Broadside: No. 6 Sixth Year
Title
A Broadside: No. 6 Sixth Year
Subject
Ireland
Cuala Press
A Broadside
Irish Literary Revival
The Gaelic Revival
Description
PUBLISHED MONTHLY BY E. C. YEATS AT THE CUALA PRESS, CHURCHTOWN, DUNDRUM, COUNTY DUBLIN. SUBSCRIPTION TWELVE SHILLINGS A YEAR POST FREE.
300 copies only.
300 copies only.
The woodcut on page [3] has caption: "THE BROTHERS JOHN AND HENRY SHEARES". Signed by Jack B. Yeats.
Creator
E. C. Yeats
Jack B. Yeats
Publisher
Cuala Press
Date
November, 1913
Text
THE COOLUN
A honey mist on a day of frost, in a dark wood,
And love for thee in my heart in me, thou bright, white, and good;
Thy slender form, soft and warm, thy red lips apart,
Thous hast found me, and hast bound me, and put grief in my heart.
In fair-green and market, men mark thee, bright, young, and merry,
Though thou hurt them like foes with the rose of thy blush of the berry;
Her cheeks are a poppy, her eye it is Cupid's helper,
But each foolish man dreams that its beams for himself are.
Whoe'er saw the Coolum in a cool dewy meadow
On a morning in summer in sunshine and shadow;
All the young men go wild for her, my childeen, my treasure,
But now let them go mope, they've no hope to posess her.
Let us roam, O my darling, afar through the mountains,
Drink milk of the goat, wine and bulcaun in fountains;
With music and play every day from my lyre,
And leave to come rest on my breast when you tire.
THE RED MAN'S WIFE
'Tis what they say,
Thy little heel fits in a shoe.
'Tis what they say,
Thy little mouth kisses well, too.
'Tis what they say,
Thousand loves that you leave me to rue;
That the tailor went the way
That the wife of the Red man knew.
Nine months did I spend
In a prison closed tightly and bound;
Bolts on my smalls
And a thousand locks frowning around;
But o'er the tide
I would leap with the leap of a swan,
Could I once set my side
By the bride of the Red-haired man.
I thought, O my life,
That one house between us would be;
And I thought I would find
You once coaxing my child on your knee;
But now the curse of the High One
On him let it be,
And on all of the band of the liars
Who put silence between you and me.
There grows a tree in the garden
With blossoms that tremble and shake,
I lay my hand on its bark
And I feel that my heart must break.
On one wish alone
My soul through the long months ran,
One little kiss
From the wife of the Red-haired man.
But the Day of Doom shall come
And hills and harbours be rent;
A mist shall fall on the sun
From the dark clouds heavily sent;
The sea shall be dry,
And earth under mourning and ban;
Then loud shall he cry
For the wife of the Red-haired man.
A honey mist on a day of frost, in a dark wood,
And love for thee in my heart in me, thou bright, white, and good;
Thy slender form, soft and warm, thy red lips apart,
Thous hast found me, and hast bound me, and put grief in my heart.
In fair-green and market, men mark thee, bright, young, and merry,
Though thou hurt them like foes with the rose of thy blush of the berry;
Her cheeks are a poppy, her eye it is Cupid's helper,
But each foolish man dreams that its beams for himself are.
Whoe'er saw the Coolum in a cool dewy meadow
On a morning in summer in sunshine and shadow;
All the young men go wild for her, my childeen, my treasure,
But now let them go mope, they've no hope to posess her.
Let us roam, O my darling, afar through the mountains,
Drink milk of the goat, wine and bulcaun in fountains;
With music and play every day from my lyre,
And leave to come rest on my breast when you tire.
THE RED MAN'S WIFE
'Tis what they say,
Thy little heel fits in a shoe.
'Tis what they say,
Thy little mouth kisses well, too.
'Tis what they say,
Thousand loves that you leave me to rue;
That the tailor went the way
That the wife of the Red man knew.
Nine months did I spend
In a prison closed tightly and bound;
Bolts on my smalls
And a thousand locks frowning around;
But o'er the tide
I would leap with the leap of a swan,
Could I once set my side
By the bride of the Red-haired man.
I thought, O my life,
That one house between us would be;
And I thought I would find
You once coaxing my child on your knee;
But now the curse of the High One
On him let it be,
And on all of the band of the liars
Who put silence between you and me.
There grows a tree in the garden
With blossoms that tremble and shake,
I lay my hand on its bark
And I feel that my heart must break.
On one wish alone
My soul through the long months ran,
One little kiss
From the wife of the Red-haired man.
But the Day of Doom shall come
And hills and harbours be rent;
A mist shall fall on the sun
From the dark clouds heavily sent;
The sea shall be dry,
And earth under mourning and ban;
Then loud shall he cry
For the wife of the Red-haired man.
Original Format
Broadside
Collection
Citation
E. C. Yeats and Jack B. Yeats, “A Broadside: No. 6 Sixth Year,” Linda Lear Center Digital Collections and Exhibitions, accessed April 24, 2024, https://lc-digital.conncoll.edu/items/show/1412.