TO A SHADE
 
 IF you have revisited the town, thin Shade,
 Whether to look upon your monument
 (I wonder if the builder has been paid)
 Or happier-thoughted when the day is spent
 To drink of that salt breath out of the sea
 When grey gulls flit about instead of men,
 And the gaunt houses put on majesty:
 Let these content you and be gone again;
 For they are at their old tricks yet.
 A man
 Of your own passionate serving kind who had brought
 In his full hands what, had they only known,
 Had given their children's children loftier thought,
 Sweeter emotion, working in their veins
 Like gentle blood, has been driven from the place,
 And instilt heaped upon him for his pains,
 And for his open-handedness, disgrace;
 Your enemy, an old fotil mouth, had set
 The pack upon him.
 Go, unquiet wanderer,
 And gather the Glasnevin coverlet
 About your head till the dust stops your ear,
 The time for you to taste of that Salt breath
 And listen at the corners has not come;
 You had enough of sorrow before death –
 Away, away! You are safer in the tomb.