Saturday 4 February 2012

Patrons in Poetry: Saint Brigid Passes

In this poem by Winifred Letts, the author alludes to the association of the feast of Saint Brigid with the heralding of the Irish spring:

Saint Brigit Passes

I thought the winter lingered still
So harsh and humoursome the wind,
But Brigit of the blessed name
Has passed and left the lambs behind.
Their little voices made a song
That drove the winter from my mind.

At Barnacullia all the whins
Were bright to see as guinea gold,
And in Kilternan primroses
Peeped kindly at me from the mould;
Glencullen's larches showed young green
That took the malice from the cold.

In Enniskerry I have watched
How April's fingers touched the trees,
And by the Dargle seen the ground
Grow azure with anemones.
The tiny wren upon the bough
Singing rebuked my heart's unease.

More Songs from Leinster by W. M. Letts (London, 1926), p.3

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