Margaret Widdemer (1884-1978) |
Intro by Laurie Epps
Today's poet is American born, but she really hits my theme for March and is a good introduction to "Irish" poetry. Born in Pennsylvania, and raised in New Jersey, Widdemer is most known for her novels, and lived out her adult life largely in New York City.
Margaret Widdemer (1884-1978) is a U.S. born poet who wrote volumes of poetry throughout her life, but focused on social issues of her day. Margaret won many prizes for her poetry including the Lyric Prize, the Trimmed Lamp Prize, and the Literary Review Prize for Satire. Widdemer served as the Vice President of the Poetry Society of America. Her highest honor is winning the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry in 1919.
Irish Couple |
Irish Love Song
by Margaret Widdemer
Well, if the thing is over, better it is for me,
The lad was ever a rover, loving and laughing free,
Far too clever a lover not to be having still
A lass in the town and a lass by the road and a lass by the farther hill --
Love on the field and love on the path and love in the woody glen --
(Lad, will I never see you, never your face again?)
Ay, if the thing is ending, now I'll be getting rest,
Saying my prayers and bending down to be stilled and blest,
Never the days are sending hope till my heart is sore
For a laugh on the path and a voice by the gate and a step
on the shieling floor --
Grief on my ways and grief on my work and grief till the evening's dim --
(Lord, will I never hear it, never a sound of him?)
Sure if it's done forever, better for me that's wise,
Never the hurt, and never tears in my aching eyes,
No more the trouble ever to hide from my asking folk
Beat of my heart at click o' the latch, and throb if his name is spoke;
Never the need to hide the sighs and the flushing thoughts and the fret,
And after awhile my heart will hush and my hungering hands forget . . .
Peace on my ways, and peace in my step, and maybe my heart grown light --
(Mary, helper of heartbreak, send him to me to-night!)
The lad was ever a rover, loving and laughing free,
Far too clever a lover not to be having still
A lass in the town and a lass by the road and a lass by the farther hill --
Love on the field and love on the path and love in the woody glen --
(Lad, will I never see you, never your face again?)
Ay, if the thing is ending, now I'll be getting rest,
Saying my prayers and bending down to be stilled and blest,
Never the days are sending hope till my heart is sore
For a laugh on the path and a voice by the gate and a step
on the shieling floor --
Grief on my ways and grief on my work and grief till the evening's dim --
(Lord, will I never hear it, never a sound of him?)
Sure if it's done forever, better for me that's wise,
Never the hurt, and never tears in my aching eyes,
No more the trouble ever to hide from my asking folk
Beat of my heart at click o' the latch, and throb if his name is spoke;
Never the need to hide the sighs and the flushing thoughts and the fret,
And after awhile my heart will hush and my hungering hands forget . . .
Peace on my ways, and peace in my step, and maybe my heart grown light --
(Mary, helper of heartbreak, send him to me to-night!)
Laurie Epps is a senior at Anderson University
majoring in Creative Writing. Already Laurie is most published as a feature
article writer, essayist, and poet. A seeker of beauty and world traveler,
Laurie hopes to grow into a career in travel writing illuminating the many
stories that make us human despite our differences. Currently, Laurie also has
a Monday Morning Book Club column dedicated to writers everywhere.
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