The Wind Among the Reeds/Hanrahan laments because of his Wanderings

by William Butler Yeats

HANRAHAN LAMENTS BECAUSE OF HIS WANDERINGS^[1]

O where is our Mother of Peace
Nodding her purple hood?
For the winds that awakened the stars
Are blowing through my blood.
I would that the death-pale deer
Had come through the mountain side,
And trampled the mountain away,
And drunk up the murmuring tide;
For the winds that awakened the stars
Are blowing through my blood,
And our Mother of Peace has forget me
Under her purple hood.

1. Notes