THE WAYFARER

The beauty of the world hath made me sad
This beauty that will pass
Sometimes my heart hath shaken with great joy
To see a leaping squirrel in a tree
On a ladybird upon a stalk
Or little rabbits in a field at evening
Lit by a slanting sun
Or some green hill where shadows drifted by
Some quiet hill where mountainy men hath sown
And soon would reap near to the gate of Heaven
Or children with bare feet upon the sands
Of some ebbed sea, or playing on the streets
Of little towns in Connacht
Things young and happy
And then my heart hath told me
These will pass
Will pass and change will die and be no more
Things bright and green, things young and happy
And I have gone upon my way, sorrowful.

Padraic Pearse (1879-1916) an Irish Freedom Fighter