Here you will find the Poem A Drover of poet Padraic Colum
To Meath of the pastures, From wet hills by the sea, Through Leitrim and Longford Go my cattle and me. I hear in the darkness Their slipping and breathing. I name them the bye-ways They?re to pass without heeding. Then the wet, winding roads, Brown bogs with black water; And my thoughts on white ships And the King o? Spain?s daughter. O! farmer, strong farmer! You can spend at the fair But your face you must turn To your crops and your care. And soldiers?red soldiers! You?ve seen many lands; But you walk two by two, And by captain?s commands. O! the smell of the beasts, The wet wind in the morn; And the proud and hard earth Never broken for corn; And the crowds at the fair, The herds loosened and blind, Loud words and dark faces And the wild blood behind. (O! strong men with your best I would strive breast to breast I could quiet your herds With my words, with my words.) I will bring you, my kine, Where there?s grass to the knee; But you?ll think of scant croppings Harsh with salt of the sea.