THE SAD YEARS
SICK I AM AND SORROWFUL (Continued)
If I stood with eager heart on the heights of Carrantuohill,
Beaten by the four great winds into hope and joy again,
Far above the cannons' roar or the scream of musketry,
If I heard the four great seas, what were weariness or pain?
Were I in a little town, Ballybunnion, Ballybrack,
Laughing with the children there, I would sing and dance once more,
Hear again the storm clouds roll hanging over Lugnaquilla,
Build dream castles from the sands of Killarney's golden shore.
If I saw the wild geese fly over the dark lakes of Kerry
Or could hear the secret winds, I could kneel and pray.
But 'tis sick I am and grieving, how can I be well again
Here, where fear and sorrow are—my heart so far away?
