Volume: CBÉ 0485 (Part 2)

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1. The Song of the Corncrake (continued)

   

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   But why should I think of "brown"?
   Of tints that are russet and dun.
   The colour of leaves that are fallen,
   it is so very like my own! It is so like my own,
   That is phantom I should not dread,
   E'en tho' winter effaces the flowers and the grasses,
   And the stalks of the tilth are dead.

   In the upland, the marsh and the sedge,
   Of Curreen and Aughlahard.
   This song of the meadow's blithe spirit
   Thro' the summer and Autumn is heard.
   Crake, crake, crake,
   All night until morning peep,
   Bidding the mower from slumber awake,
   And forth to the meadow himself betake,
   Till she sinks herself to sleep.

   The scene of the song of the corncrake is sid-on the slopes of Slieve Bawn, overlooking the Lordly Shannon where all the place - names mentioned recur.

   

   Transcribed by a member of our volunteer transcription project.

   History Edit

   Item type

   Lore

   Language

   English

   Writing mode

   Handwritten

   Writing script

   Roman script

   Informant

   • Timothy Hurley