The Land of Heart's Desire by William Butler Yeats (free ebook reader .txt) π
THE CHILD.
Old mother, my old mother, the green dawn
Brightens above while you blow up the fire;
And evening finds you spreading the white cloth.
The young may lie in bed and dream and hope,
But you work on because your heart is old.
BRIDGET BRUIN.
The young are idle.
THE CHILD.
Old father, you are wise,
And all the years have gathered in your heart
To whisper of the wonders that are gone.
The young must sigh through many a dream and hope,
But you are wise because your heart is old.
MAURTEEN BRUIN.
O, who would think to find so young a child
Loving old age and wisdom.
[BRIDGET gives her more bread and honey.
THE CHILD.
No more, mother.
MAURTEEN BRUIN.
What a small bite; The milk is ready now;
What a small sip!
THE CHILD.
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The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Land Of Heart's Desire (Little Blue
Book#335), by W.B. Yeats
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Title: The Land Of Heart's Desire (Little Blue Book#335)
Author: W.B. Yeats
Release Date: February 23, 2005 [EBook #15153]
Language: English
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LAND OF HEART'S DESIRE ***
Produced by Ted Garvin, Melissa Er-Raqabi and the Online Distributed
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LITTLE BLUE BOOK NO. 335 Edited by E. Haldeman-Julius The Land of Heart's Desire W.B. Yeats
HALDEMAN-JULIUS COMPANY
GIRARD, KANSAS
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
THE LAND OF HEART'S DESIRE PERSONSMAURTEEN BRUIN.
SHAWN BRUIN.
FATHER HART.
BRIDGET BRUIN.
MAIRE BRUIN.
A FAERY CHILD.
The scene is laid in the Barony of Kilmacowen in
the county of Sligo, and the time is the
end of Eighteenth Century. The
characters are supposed to
speak in Gaelic.
The kitchen of MAURTEEN BRAIN'S house. An open grate with a turf fire is at the left side of the room, with a table in front of it. There is a door leading to the open air at the back, and another door a little to its left, leading into an inner room. There is a window, a settle, and a large dresser on the right side of the room, and a great bowl of primroses on the sill of the window. MAURTEEN BRUIN, FATHER HART; and BRIDGET BRUIN are sitting at the table. SHAWN BRUIN is setting the table for supper. MAIRE BRUIN sits on the settle reading a yellow manuscript.
BRIDGET BRUIN.
She took that old book down out of the thatch
And has been doubled over it all day.
We would be deafened by her groans and moans
Had she to work as some do, Father Hart,
Get up at dawn like me, and mend and scour;
Or ride abroad in the boisterous night like you,
The pyx and blessed bread under your arm.
SHAWN BRUIN.
BRIDGET BRUIN.
MAURTEEN BRUIN.
And is too deep just now in the old book;
But do not blame her greatly; she will grow
As quiet as a puff-ball in a tree
When but the moons of marriage dawn and die
For half a score of times.
FATHER HART
As be the hearts of birds, till children come.
BRIDGET BRUIN.
Or even lay the knives and spread the cloth.
FATHER HART.
What may it be?
MAURTEEN BRUIN.
It has been in the thatch for fifty years.
My father told me my grandfather wrote it,
Killed a red heifer and bound it with the hide.
But draw your chair this wayβsupper is spread;
And little good he got out of the book,
Because it filled his house with roaming bards,
And roaming ballad-makers and the like,
And wasted all his goods.βHere is the wine;
The griddle bread's beside you, Father Hart.
Colleen, what have you got there in the book
That you must leave the bread to cool? Had I,
Or had my father, read or written books
There were no stockings full of silver and gold
To come, when I am dead, to Shawn and you.
FATHER HART.
What are you reading?
MAIRE BRUIN.
A daughter of a King of Ireland, heard
A voice singing on a May eve like this,
And followed, half awake and half asleep,
Until she came into the land of faery,
Where nobody gets old and godly and grave,
Where nobody gets old and crafty and wise,
Where nobody gets old and bitter of tongue;
And she is still there, busied with a dance.
Deep in the dewy shadow of a wood,
Or where stars walk upon a mountain top.
MAURTEEN BRUIN.
My grandfather would mutter just such things,
And he was no judge of a dog or horse,
And any idle boy could blarney him.
Just speak your mind.
FATHER HART.
God spreads the heavens above us like great wings,
And gives a little round of deeds and days,
And then come the wrecked angels and set snares,
And bait them with light hopes and heavy dreams,
Until the heart is puffed with pride and goes,
Half shuddering and half joyous, from God's peace;
And it was some wrecked angel, blind tears,
Who flattered Edene's heart with merry words.
My colleen, I have seen some other girls
Restless and ill at ease, but years went by
And they grew like their neighbours and were glad
In minding children, working at the churn,
And gossiping of weddings and of wakes;
For life moves out of a red flare of dreams
Into a common light of common hours,
Until old age bring the red flare again.
SHAWN BRUIN.
For she is dull while I am in the fields,
And mother's tongue were harder still to bear,
But for her fancies: this is May Eve too,
When the good people post about the world,
And surely one may think of them to-night.
Maire, have you the primroses to fling
Before the door to make a golden path
For them to bring good luck into the house.
Remember, they may steal new-married brides
Upon May Eve.
MAIRE BRUIN (going over to the window and taking the flowers from the bowl.)
[She goes to the door and strews the primroses outside.
FATHER HART.
Great power to the good people on May Eve.
MAURTEEN BRUIN.
Change them to golden money, or little flames
To burn up those who do them any wrong.
MAIRE BRUIN.
Than the wind cried and hurried them away.
BRIDGET BRUIN.
MAIRE BRUIN.
Will not be lucky to the house this year,
But I am glad that I was courteous to them,
For are not they, likewise, children of God?
FATHER HART.
And they have power until the end of Time,
When God shall fight with them a great pitched battle
And hack them into pieces.
MAIRE BRUIN.
Father, perhaps, and open his great door,
FATHER HART.
They would fall, slain by everlasting peace;
And when such angels knock upon our doors
Who goes with them must drive through the same storm.
[A knock at the door. MAIRE BRUIN opens it and then goes to the dresser and fills a porringer with milk and hands it through the door and takes it back empty and closes the door.
MAIRE BRUIN.
Who came to beg a porringer of milk.
BRIDGET BRUIN.
Upon May EveβWoe on the house that gives
For they have power upon it for a year.
I knew you would bring evil on the house
MAURTEEN BRUIN.
MAIRE BRUIN.
MAURTEEN BRUIN.
She must be one of them.
BRIDGET BRUIN.
MAURTEEN BRUIN.
FATHER HART.
While it hangs there.
MAURTEEN BRUIN.
And cut away your dreams of discontent,
For I would have you light up my last days
Like a bright torch of pine, and when I die
I will make you the wealthiest hereabout;
For hid away where nobody can find
I have a stocking full of silver and gold.
BRIDGET BRUIN.
And I must pinch and pare that my son's wife
May have all kinds of ribbons for her head.
MAURTEEN BRUIN.
The butter's by your elbow, Father Hart.
My colleen, have not Fate and Time and Change
Done well for me and for old Bridget there?
We have a hundred acres of good land,
And sit beside each other at the fire,
The wise priest of our parish to our right,
And you and our dear son to left of us.
To sit beside the board and drink good wine
And watch the turf smoke coiling from the fire
And feel content and wisdom in your heart,
This is the best of life; when we are young
We long to tread a way none trod before,
But find the excellent old way through love
And through the care of children to the hour
For bidding Fate and Time and Change good-bye.
[A knock at the door. MAIRE BRUIN opens it and then takes a sod of turf out of the hearth in the tongs and passes it through the door and closes the door and remains standing by it.
MAIRE BRUIN.
Who asked a burning sod to light his pipe.
BRIDGET BRUIN.
For all you know, evil upon the house.
Before you married you were idle and fine,
And went about with ribbons on your head;
And now you are a good-for-nothing wife.
SHAWN BRUIN.
MAURTEEN BRUIN.
MAIRE BRUIN.
Where I must hear all day a bitter tongue,
Into the power of faeries!
BRIDGET BRUIN.
How calling the good people by that name
Or talking of them over much at all
May bring all kinds of evil on the house.
MAIRE BRUIN.
Let me have all the freedom I have lostβ
Work when I will and idle when I will!
Faeries, came take me out of this dull world,
For I would ride with you upon the wind,
Run on the top of the dishevelled tide,
And dance upon the mountains like a flame!
FATHER HART.
MAIRE BRUIN.
A tongue that is too crafty and too wise,
A tongue that is too godly and too grave,
A tongue that is more bitter than the tide,
And a kind tongue too full of drowsy love,
Of drowsy love and my captivity.
[SHAWN BRUIN comes over to her and leads her to the settle.
SHAWN BRUIN.
Thinking that all things trouble your bright headβ
How beautiful it isβsuch broad pale brows
Under a cloudy blossoming of hair!
Sit down beside me hereβthese are too old,
And have forgotten they were ever young.
MAIRE BRUIN.
And I the red nasturtium climbing up.
[She takes SHAWN'S hand but looks shyly at the priest and lets it go.
FATHER HART.
God binds us to Himself and to the hearth
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