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- RED HANRAHAN'S SONG ABOUT IRELAND
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- THE old brown thorn-trees break in two high over Cummen Strand,
- Under a bitter black wind that blows from the left hand;
- Our courage breaks like an old tree in a black wind and dies,
- But we have hidden in our hearts the flame out of the eyes
- Of Cathleen, the daughter of Houlihan.
- The wind has bundled up the clouds high over Knock- narea,
- And thrown the thunder on the stones for all that Maeve can say.
- Angers that are like noisy clouds have set our hearts abeat;
- But we have all bent low and low and kissed the quiet feet
- Of Cathleen, the daughter of Houlihan.
- The yellow pool has overflowed high up on Clooth-na-Bare,
- For the wet winds are blowing out of the clinging air;
- Like heavy flooded waters our bodies and our blood;
- But purer than a tall candle before the Holy Rood
- Is Cathleen, the daughter of Houlihan.
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