- 1. The Great Hunger
I
Clay is the word and clay is the flesh
Where the potato-gatherers like mechanised scarecrows move
Along the side-fall of the hill - Maguire and his men.
...
- 2. Peace
And sometimes I am sorry when the grass
Is growing over the stones in quiet hollows
And the cocksfoot leans across the rutted cart-pass
That I am not the voice of country fellows
...
- 3. To The Man After The Harrow
Now leave the check-reins slack,
The seed is flying far today -
The seed like stars against the black
Eternity of April clay.
...
- 4. April Dusk
April dusk
It is tragic to be a poet now
And not a lover
Paradised under the mutest bough.
...
- 5. Wet Evening In April
The birds sang in the wet trees
And I listened to them it was a hundred years from now
And I was dead and someone else was listening to them.
But I was glad I had recorded for him
...
- 6. March
There's a wind blowing
Cold through the corridors,
A ghost-wind,
The flapping of defeated wings,
...
