luathbreacadh's Channel

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storm in my heart luathbreacadh 20,489 views Dolores Keane Storm in my heart
Take me home to Mayo Michiel Gaughan luathbreacadh 25,473 views Take me home to Mayo Michiel Gaughan
The Sick Note luathbreacadh 55,565 views The Dubliners and Sean Cannon The Sick Note
Messenger Boy christy Hennessy luathbreacadh 13,224 views christy Hennessy with daughter Hermione Ross Messenger boy getting my love to you
Christy Hennessy when will we learn luathbreacadh 14,511 views Christy sings with guest singers Luka Bloom and Christy Moore. From the Duet album Just the two of us
Getting over you Christy Hennessy luathbreacadh 11,881 views Christy Hennessy with daughter Hermione Ross Getting over you
Tommy Fleming May we never have to say goodbye luathbreacadh 68,100 views Tommy Fleming. Elaine Canning. May we never have to say good by
Na Leathe Bhi Clannad luathbreacadh 134 views Na Leathe Bhi Clannad
Christy Hennessy Messenger Boy Part 4 luathbreacadh 3,622 views Christy Hennessy Messenger Boy Part 4
Christy Hennessy Messenger Boy Part 3 luathbreacadh 6,723 views Christy Hennessy Messenger Boy Part 3

About North County Dublin Female

ie.youtube.com/luathbreacadh

Created by

luathbreacadh

Latest Activity

Nov 19, 2011

Date Joined

Feb 14, 2008

About this user

He did not wear his scarlet coat,
...For blood and wine are red,
And blood and wine were on his hands
....When they found him with the dead,
The poor dead woman whom he loved,
.... And murdered in her bed.

He walked amongst the Trial Men
.... In a suit of shabby gray;
A cricket cap was on his head,
.... And his step seemed light and gay;
But I never saw a man who looked
....So wistfully at the day.

I never saw a man who looked
....With such a wistful eye
Upon that little tent of blue
....Which prisoners call the sky,
And at every drifting cloud that went
....With sails of silver by.
I walked, with other souls in pain,
....Within another ring,
And was wondering if the man had done
....A great or little thing,
When a voice behind me whispered low,
....That fellows got to swing

Dear Christ! the very prison walls
....Suddenly seemed to reel,
And the sky above my head became
....Like a casque of scorching steel;
And, though I was a soul in pain,
....My pain I could not feel.

I only knew what hunted thought
....Quickened his step, and why
He looked upon the garish day
....With such a wistful eye;
The man had killed the thing he loved
....And so he had to die.

Yet each man kills the thing he loves,
....By each let this be heard,
Some do it with a bitter look,
....Some with a flattering word,
The coward does it with a kiss,
....The brave man with a sword!

Some kill their love when they are young,
.....And some when they are old;
Some strangle with the hands of Lust,
....Some with the hands of Gold:
The kindest use a knife, because
....The dead so soon grow cold.

Some love too little, some too long,
....Some sell, and others buy;
Some do the deed with many tears,
....And some without a sigh:
For each man kills the thing he loves,
....Yet each man does not die.

He does not die a death of shame
....On a day of dark disgrace,
Nor have a noose about his neck,
....Nor a cloth upon his face,
Nor drop feet foremost through the floor
....Into an empty space.

He does not sit with silent men
.....Who watch him night and day;
Who watch him when he tries to weep,
.....And when he tries to pray;
Who watch him lest himself should rob
....The prison of its prey.
He does not wake at dawn to see
....Dread figures throng his room,
The shivering Chaplain robed in white,
....The Sheriff stern with gloom,
And the Governor all in shiny black,
....With the yellow face of Doom.

He does not rise in piteous haste
....To put on convict-clothes,
While some coarse-mouthed Doctor gloats, and notes
....Each new and nerve-twitched pose,
Fingering a watch whose little ticks
....Are like horrible hammer-blows.

He does not know that sickening thirst
....That sands one's throat, before
The hangman with his gardener's gloves
....Slips through the padded door,
And binds one with three leathern thongs,
....That the throat may thirst no more.

He does not bend his head to hear
....The Burial Office read,
Nor, while the terror of his soul
....Tells him he is not dead,
Cross his own coffin, as he moves
....Into the hideous shed.

He does not stare upon the air
....Through a little roof of glass;
He does not pray with lips of clay
....For his agony to pass;
Nor feel upon his shuddering cheek
....The kiss of Caiaphas.

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