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- AT THE ABBEY THEATRE
-
- DEAR Craoibhin Aoibhin, look into our case.
- When we are high and airy hundreds say
- That if we hold that flight they'll leave the place,
- While those same hundreds mock another day
- Because we have made our art of common things,
- So bitterly, you'd dream they longed to look
- All their lives through into some drift of wings.
- You've dandled them and fed them from the book
- And know them to the bone; impart to us --
- We'll keep the secret -- a new trick to please.
- Is there a bridle for this Proteus
- That turns and changes like his draughty seas?
- Or is there none, most popular of men,
- But when they mock us, that we mock again?
-