| |
| FOR I was a gaunt, grave councillor, | |
| Being in all things wise, and very old; | |
| But I have put aside this folly and the cold | |
| That old age weareth for a cloak. | |
| |
| I was quite strong—at least they said so— | 5 |
| The young men at the sword-play; | |
| But I have put aside this folly, being gay | |
| In another fashion that more suiteth me. | |
| |
| I have curled mid the boles of the ash wood, | |
| I have hidden my face where the oak | 10 |
| Spread his leaves over me, and the yoke | |
| Of the old ways of men have I cast aside. | |
| |
| By the still pool of Mar-nan-otha | |
| Have I found me a bride | |
| That was a dog-wood tree some syne. | 15 |
| She hath called me from mine old ways; | |
| She hath hushed my rancor of council, | |
| Bidding me praise | |
| |
| Naught but the wind that flutters in the leaves. | |
| |
| She hath drawn me from mine old ways, | 20 |
| Till men say that I am mad; | |
| But I have seen the sorrow of men, and am glad, | |
| For I know that the wailing and bitterness are a folly. | |
| And I? I have put aside all folly and all grief. | |
| I wrapped my tears in an ellum leaf | 25 |
| And left them under a stone; | |
| And now men call me mad because I have thrown | |
| All folly from me, putting it aside | |
| To leave the old barren ways of men, | |
| Because my bride | 30 |
| Is a pool of the wood; and | |
| Though all men say that I am mad | |
| It is only that I am glad— | |
| Very glad, for my bride hath toward me a great love | |
| That is sweeter than the love of women | 35 |
| That plague and burn and drive one away. | |
| |
| Aie-e! ’Tis true that I am gay, | |
| Quite gay, for I have her alone here | |
| And no man troubleth us. | |
| |
| Once when I was among the young men … | 40 |
| And they said I was quite strong, among the young men … | |
| Once there was a woman … | |
| … but I forget … she was … | |
| … I hope she will not come again. | |
| |
| … I do not remember … | 45 |
| I think she hurt me once, but … | |
| That was very long ago. | |
| |
| I do not like to remember things any more. | |
| |
| I like one little band of winds that blow | |
| In the ash trees here: | 50 |
| For we are quite alone, | |
| Here mid the ash trees. | |
| |
