European Elegies/Spring/"Pulse of my heart"

67.“PULSE OF MY HEART”

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Before the sunrise, in the early dawn,I watched her radiant grace upon the lawn,  Her cheeks where flame and snow  Strove and bade beauty blow,Her slender body like a stream-girt swan—Pulse of my heart, what shadow makes thee slow?

Her voice was soft and gentle; not more sweetWas Orpheus' tongue, that could wild beasts entreat;  Her song was clear and low  In that loved long ago,Like dew-kissed meadows round our morning feet—Pulse of my heart, what shadow makes thee slow?

From the Erse of O'Carroll.