Ballad for Kevin Barry

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BALLAD FOR KEVIN BARRY. At the time when trees of autumn Call to wind and mitching boy, Soldiers noosed the lad and caught him To a tree before Mountjoy. Calvary and Kilmashogue Both must watch the mercenary Hang the hero for a rogue: Knot the rope for Kevin Barry! Saints were dancing on All Hallows, Apples patched the streets and nuts, Soldiers rigged a prison gallows With the devil's wiry guts. Rainbows flowered the cobble stones, For, the roads were wet and tarry, When they jerked the flesh and bones From the soul of Kevin Barry. Samhain fog and beauty—muddy Pavements—hills as fair as God! Autumn like a queen all bloody Through the streets of Dublin trod: Deirdre-like, a wounded rose, Here where all her sorrows tarry Through the shadows that she knows Autumn keened for Kevin Barry. Fish on stalls before the castle Stank and silvered in the rain, Oranges had lost Hy-Brassil For the kerb of Golden Lane. Carts of hay and carts of straw Squandered gold they could not carry On the day the English law Choked the life from Kevin Barry. Sailors dark with grape-stained weather Spat out sunlight on the quays, Old books stirred their skins of leather Dreamt of sunburnt centuries. Down the river Manannan Drove his white-maned steeds to harry Lissom ships, towards a dawn Lit to honour Kevin Barry. Round the miry Pillar streeling Boys as lithe as Plato's Greeks Laughed and cursed at women wheeling Cabbages and ivory lecks. Sparrows jerred the tolling clocks, Pigeons flushed and cinerary Smouldered on the salty docks, While they haltered Kevin Barry. From the Three Rock to the scaffold Mountain winds came singing down, Gay to see how youth had baffled Hell-fire in an Irish town. Gay to see old Satan's thrust Fended with a scornful parry “Dust returns unto star-dust ”! Sang the winds round Kevin Barry. Red leaves scattered by the breezes Bled along grey streets and pale; You'd have said the feet of Jesus Had walked round about the gaol. And a shining host of youth Made the city wild and starry With their eyes of love and truth Comrades, these, of Kevin Barry. Seagulls, rapiers of light, winged Gleaming to the gallows place, Death came soaring like the white-winged Victory of Samothrace. Seagulls sprayed the gallows tree From the Liffey's estuary Crying of the courteous sea To the young lad, Kevin Barry. Dublin hills and Dublin city He'd had eighteen years to tread High disdain has youth for pity Swinging at the gallows' head. Swinging fairly as a flower Hung on shrine or sanctuary, Youth is gray in passion's hour— Who will weep for Kevin Barry? MICHAEL SCOTT.