

#The Cry of the Curlews


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#### Corpus of Electronic Texts Edition


### Background details and bibliographic information


The Cry of the Curlews
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Author: Patrick Augustine Sheehan
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### File Description

Electronic edition compiled by Benjamin Hazard

Funded by School of History, University College, Cork 1. First draftExtent of text: 845 words#### Publication


CELT: Corpus of Electronic Texts: a project of University College, Cork  
College Road, Cork, Ireland — http://www.ucc.ie/celt

 (2013) Distributed by CELT online at University College, Cork, Ireland.  
Text ID Number: E901002-001Availability [RESTRICTED] 
Available with prior consent of the CELT programme for purposes of academic research and teaching only.


#### Sources


**Manuscript**2. In private possession, Noel Scannell.
**Canon Sheehan on the Internet**2. http://www.canonsheehanremembered.com.
**Edition**2. Canon P.A. Sheehan, 'The Cry of the Curlews,' The Irish Monthly, 29 (June 1901) 287–288.
3. Canon P.A. Sheehan, Literary life. Essays and Poems (Dublin 1921), [Poems] 48–49.
**Further reading**2. James O'Brien (ed.), The Collected Letters of Canon Sheehan of Doneraile, 1883–1913 (Wells 2013).
3. James O'Brien, Canon Sheehan of Doneraile 1852–1913: Outlines for Literary Biography (Wells 2013).
**The edition used in the digital edition**2. , The Cry of the Curlews in The Irish Monthly: A Magazine of General Literature, Ed. Matthew Russell SJ. , Dublin, Irish Jesuit Province (June 1901) page 287–288

### Encoding


#### Project Description


CELT: Corpus of Electronic Texts


#### Sampling Declaration


The electronic text represents the edited version.


#### Editorial Declaration


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Text has been checked and proof-read once.


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##### Interpretation


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### Profile Description


Created: By Patrick Augustine Sheehan (1852–1913)
 (1901) #### Use of language


##### Language: [EN] The text is in English.


### Revision History


* (2013-05-30) Beatrix Färber (ed.)

* File checked and validated; SGML and HTML versions created.
* (2013-05-29) Benjamin Hazard (ed.)

* Header created; structural mark-up added.
* (2013-05-13) Benjamin Hazard (ed.)

* Bibliographical details compiled.
* (2013-05-13) Benjamin Hazard (data capture)

* Text of captured.




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#### Corpus of Electronic Texts Edition: E901002-001


### The Cry of the Curlews: Author: Patrick Augustine Sheehan




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p.287


1. A lonely whitewashed cottage
  
Under a sandy cliff;
  
I, a child, and my cradle
  
The thwarts of the fisher's skiff.
  
Dark was the night without,
  
The winds swept over the lea
  
The cry of the curlews calling,
  
And the weary wash of the sea.
2. Sea-swallows nested above us
  
Silent; but all night long
  
Sleepless the cold waves gathered.
  
Pouring to night their song.
  
They sang alone in the darkness,
  
Like hooded monks in choir,
  
And the long, lone beach was lighted
  
With flames of the white sea-fire.
3. I heard the fret of the shingle
  
Teased by the wanton wave,
  
And the deep, low boom of the thunder
  
In the dripping ocean-cave.
  
But I heeded not fret nor thunder,
  
Nor the crack of the wild wind's whips,
  
For the mother's face bent o'er me,
  
And the warmth of a sister's lips.
4. Years have sped since my childhood,
  
And all the visions of yore
  
Passed like the spirits of dreamland
  
Haunting a ghostly shore.
  
Yet in the night or twilight
  
Cometh a sound to me
  
The cry of the curlews calling,
  
And the weary wash of the sea.


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p.288

7. Yestreen I watched in my manhood
  
There where the cottage stood,
  
Under the nests of the swallows
  
Beside the ocean flood.
  
Gone is the whitewashed cabin,
  
And the fisher's humble skiff,
  
And a low mound, weedy and grass-grown,
  
Is all of the stately cliff.
8. And there in the twilight of fancy
  
Did I trace my love's eclipse,
  
The vision that bent above me,
  
The thrill of a sister's lips.
  
God! Thou art just, and somewhere
  
In Thy myriad mansions blest,
  
Mother and sister are watching
  
The face they once caressed.
9. For death is only a shadow
  
Cast by Thy holy love,
  
As the nest of her young is darkened
  
By the wings of the hov'ring dove.
  
Swifter and swifter downwards
  
Thy Spirit swoops to us,
  
Couched in the warmth of His shadow,
  
Winged multitudinous.
10. Yestreen I watched in my manhood,
  
To-day my hair is white;
  
I hear the eternal surges
  
Beat in the nearing night.
  
But even in Heaven I'll summon
  
From the cells of memory
  
The cry of the curlews calling,
  
And the weary wash of the sea.
P. A. SHEEHAN.









