I have not gathered gold;
The fame that I won perished;
In love I found but sorrow,
That withered my life.

Of wealth or of glory
I shall leave nothing behind me
(I think it, O God, enough!)
But my name in the heart of a child.

(C) Padraic Pearse
01/01/2000


Best Poems of Padraic Pearse

• Ideal
• The Woman Of The Mountain Keens Her Son
• To Death
• Tara Is Grass