<html xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><body><h1 align="center" class="head">The Spring in Ireland: 1916</h1><div class="stanza"><p class="subhead">I</p><p class="line"><span class="smallcaps">Do</span> not forget my charge I beg of you;</p><p class="line">That of what flow'rs you find of fairest hue</p><p class="line">And sweetest odor you do gather those</p><p class="line">Are best of all the best -- a fragrant rose,</p><p class="line">A tall calm lily from the waterside,</p><p class="line">A half-blown poppy leaning at the side</p><p class="line">Its graceful head to dream among the corn,</p><p class="line">Forget-me-nots that seem as though the morn</p><p class="line">Had tumbled down and grew into the clay,</p><p class="line">And hawthorn buds that swing along the way</p><p class="line">Easing the hearts of those who pass them by</p><p class="line">Until they find contentment. -- Do not cry,</p><p class="line">But gather buds, and with them greenery</p><p class="line">Of slender branches taken from a tree</p><p class="line">Well bannered by the spring that saw them fall:</p><p class="line">Then you, for you are cleverest of all</p><p class="line">Who have slim fingers and are pitiful,</p><p class="line">Brimming your lap with bloom that you may cull,</p><p class="line">Will sit apart, and weave for every head</p><p class="line">A garland of the fiow'rs you gatheréd.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="subhead">II</p><p class="line">Be green upon their graves, O happy Spring,</p><p class="line">For they were young and eager who are dead;</p><p class="line">Of all things that are young and quivering</p><p class="line">With eager life be they rememberéd:</p><p class="line">They move not here, they have gone to the clay,</p><p class="line">They cannot die again for liberty;</p><p class="line">Be they remembered of their land for aye;</p><p class="line">Green be their graves and green their memory.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">Fragrance and beauty come in with the green,</p><p class="line">The ragged bushes put on sweet attire,</p><p class="line">The birds forget how chill these airs have been,</p><p class="line">The clouds bloom out again and move in fire;</p><p class="line">Blue is the dawn of day, calm is the lake,</p><p class="line">And merry sounds are fitful in the morn;</p><p class="line">In covert deep the young blackbirds awake,</p><p class="line">They shake their wings and sing upon the morn.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">At springtime of the year you came and swung</p><p class="line">Green flags above the newly-greening earth;</p><p class="line">Scarce were the leaves unfolded, they were young,</p><p class="line">Nor had outgrown the wrinkles of their birth:</p><p class="line">Comrades they thought you of their pleasant hour,</p><p class="line">They had but glimpsed the sun when they saw you;</p><p class="line">They heard your songs e'er birds had singing power,</p><p class="line">And drank your blood e'er that they drank the dew.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">Then you went down, and then, and as in pain,</p><p class="line">The Spring affrighted fled her leafy ways,</p><p class="line">The clouds came to the earth in gusty rain,</p><p class="line">And no sun shone again for many days:</p><p class="line">And day by day they told that one was dead,</p><p class="line">And day by day the season mourned for you,</p><p class="line">Until that count of woe was finishéd,</p><p class="line">And Spring remembered all was yet to do.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">She came with mirth of wind and eager leaf,</p><p class="line">With scampering feet and reaching out of wings,</p><p class="line">She laughed among the boughs and banished grief,</p><p class="line">And cared again for all her baby things;</p><p class="line">Leading along the joy that has to be,</p><p class="line">Bidding her timid buds think on the May,</p><p class="line">And told that Summer comes with victory,</p><p class="line">And told the hope that is all creatures' stay.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">Go, Winter, now unto your own abode,</p><p class="line">Your time is done, and Spring is conqueror</p><p class="line">Lift up with all your gear and take your road,</p><p class="line">For she is here and brings the sun with her:</p><p class="line">Now are we resurrected, now are we,</p><p class="line">Who lay so long beneath an icy hand,</p><p class="line">New-risen into life and liberty,</p><p class="line">Because the Spring is come into our land.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="subhead">III</p><p class="line">In other lands they may,</p><p class="line">With public joy or dole along the way,</p><p class="line">With pomp and pageantry and loud lament</p><p class="line">Of drums and trumpets, and with merriment</p><p class="line">Of grateful hearts, lead into rest and sted</p><p class="line">The nation's dead.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">If we had drums and trumpets, if we had</p><p class="line">Aught of heroic pitch or accent glad</p><p class="line">To honor you as bids tradition old,</p><p class="line">With banners flung or draped in mournful fold,</p><p class="line">And pacing cortege; these would we not bring</p><p class="line">For your last journeying.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">We have no drums or trumpets; naught have we</p><p class="line">But some green branches taken from a tree,</p><p class="line">And flowers that grow at large in mead and vale;</p><p class="line">Nothing of choice have we, or of avail</p><p class="line">To do you honor as our honor deems,</p><p class="line">And as your worth beseems.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">Sleep, drums and trumpets, yet a little time;</p><p class="line">All ends and all begins, and there is chime</p><p class="line">At last where discord was, and joy at last</p><p class="line">Where woe wept out her eyes: be not downcast,</p><p class="line">Here is prosperity and goodly cheer,</p><p class="line">For life does follow death, and death is here.</p></div><p class="byline">-- James Stephens.</p></body></html> · Great War