Short Poems

Deep in the heart of this dim wood
Our Naiad pours her slender urn,
Nor dreams that round its gathering flood
The fortunes of a world will turn.

High-brow house was furnished well
With many a goblet fair;
So when they brought the Holy Grail,
There was never a space to spare.
Simple Cottage was clear and clean,
With room to store at will;
So there they laid the Holy Grail,
And there you'll find it still.

As soundes from hollow things,
doe nought but ayre implie:
So words from faythlesse friends,
shewe nought but flatterie.

Ard Macha is the capital of Ireland, a noble place of a high prince; he has come upon the beautiful citadel of many masses that is like blue Colt, full of valleys. Never let your contention be with Ard Macha of the white-washed wall, even if you go as far as ancient Corcach of the fair feasts among the chief places of the men of Ireland. Taillte and Nas Laighean of the slopes, Aileach and Eamhain, red with wine — no man leaves them sorrowful — Uisneach and Cruachain and Caiseal.

KEIP YOW FRA PRODIGALITIE ,
OPPRESSIOUN, WRANG, AND CREWELTIE ;
AND FRA ALL VYCE, AND VANITIE :
AND GRUND YOW UPON TREUTH .
HANT GUDE AND HONEST CUMPANIE ;
USE WYSE COUNSALE, AND GRAVITIE ;
DO ALL YOUR MATERS DISCREITLIE ;
AND OF THE PUIR HAVE REUTH .

The four most generous men whom Flann found from the day he sold his first quatrain, when the slender-fingered poet of Maonmhagh had traversed all of Ireland: Maol Doraidh, noble Eigneachan, Aonghus, generous and fierce Flaithbheartach — a noble family that rewarded every poem — of the progeny of Conall of Connluan. Flann, son of Lonan, brought a pure lay to Eigneachan, Dalach's heir, having praised each most excellent spirit, having tried the generosity of Ireland. ├ëigneachan of Eas Ruaidh gave at once to the ollave of Ireland — few to whom the judgment is given — seven ploughlands to till.

Conall, the choicest of the sons — I speak of the pick of the troop — took possession long ago of the household whence he sprang; Conall gave Eoghan territory. Of a truth they came to Teamhair — they had reached as far as Eas Eidhnigh; he spread his warrior-band grimly before the troop of the Offspring of warlike Niall. Conall of the heroes is chosen — it was not a clamour without result — the stately, virile, pure prince, by election the place of Niall of Teamhair was his.

You say, " Where goest thou? " I cannot tell,
And still go on. If but the way be straight,
It cannot go amiss! before me lies
Dawn and the Day; the Night behind me; that
Suffices me; I break the bounds; I see ,
And nothing more; believe , and nothing less.
My future is not one of my concerns.

I hear the world exclaim, How small your wit!
Small too is my reward; — and so we're quit.

To climbe to hign must needes be nought,
the feare to fall doth breede disease:
To sinke to lowe brings carefull thought,
dispayring payne can neuer please.
The golden meane giues quiet rest,
Who liues betwene extremes doth best.