

#The Elf-Child


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#### Corpus of Electronic Texts Edition


### Background details and bibliographic information


The Elf-Child
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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 and  
Private donation 1. First draftExtent of text: 660 words#### Publication


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

 (2014) Distributed by CELT online at University College, Cork, Ireland.  
Text ID Number: E890000-016Availability [RESTRICTED] 
Available with prior consent of the CELT programme for purposes of academic research and teaching only.


#### Sources


**Manuscript**2. [Details to follow].
**Canon Sheehan on the Internet**2. http://www.canonsheehanremembered.com.
**Edition**2. Canon P.A. Sheehan, 'The Elf-Child,' The Irish Monthly, 26/296 (February 1898) 72.
**Literature**2. Herman Joseph Heuser, Canon Sheehan of Doneraile: the story of an Irish parish priest as told chiefly by himself in books, personal memoirs, and letters (New York 1917).
3. Arthur Coussens. P. A. Sheehan, zijn leven en zijn werken (Brugge/Bruges 1923).
4. Michael P. Linehan, Canon Sheehan of Doneraile: Priest, Novelist, Man of Letters (Dublin 1952).
5. James O'Brien (ed.), The Collected Letters of Canon Sheehan of Doneraile, 1883–1913 (Wells 2013).
6. James O'Brien, Canon Sheehan of Doneraile 1852–1913: Outlines for a Literary Biography (Wells 2013). [Bibliographical references 205-11.]
**The edition used in the digital edition**2. , The Elf-Child in The Irish Monthly: A Magazine of General Literature, Ed. Matthew Russell SJ. , Dublin, Irish Jesuit Province (February 1898) page 72

### Encoding


#### Project Description


CELT: Corpus of Electronic Texts


#### Sampling Declaration


The electronic text represents the edited version.


#### Editorial Declaration


##### Correction


Text has been checked and proof-read once.


##### Normalization


The electronic text represents the edited text.


##### Quotation


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##### Hyphenation


Soft hyphens are silently removed. When a hyphenated word (hard or soft) crosses a page-break or line-break, the page-break and line-break are marked after the completion of the hyphenated word.


##### Segmentation


div0 = the poem. Metrical lines, line-breaks and stanzas are marked and numbered.


##### Standard Values


There are no dates.


##### Interpretation


Names of persons and places are not tagged.


### Profile Description


Created: By Patrick Augustine Sheehan (1852–1913)
 (1898) #### Use of language


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


### Revision History


* (2014-02-10) Beatrix Färber (ed.)

* File parsed and validated; wordcount made; SGML and HTML versions created.
* (2014-01-31) Benjamin Hazard (ed.)

* Header created; structural mark-up added; file proofed.
* (2014-01-24) Benjamin Hazard (file capture)

* Text scanned.




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#### Corpus of Electronic Texts Edition: E890000-016


### The Elf-Child: Author: Patrick Augustine Sheehan




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p.72


1. 'Mother! is this the storm-fiend, swooping down to seize me?
  
He bath slain all my autumn leaves with his lightning sword.'
  
Nay, nay, my little one, 'tis angels' fingers straying
  
In some wild midnight voluntary on the organ of the Lord!
  
'Mother! stars are hidden, and the great cloud-billows
  
Pile their big battalions o'er the flying moon;
  
Will she be o'erwhelmed, and rise no more to cheer us?
  
Nay, nay, my little one, 'tis moon-dance to storm-rune.
  
'Mother, list! the death-watch, tapping, tapping, tapping;
  
Is this my little coffin that they're nailing, plank to plank?'
  
Mother's tears are falling, pitifully falling;
  
Mother's heart is sinking in the midnight, drear and blank.
  
But she whispered: Nay, my child 'tis angels' fingers swaying
  
The woodbine's long, lithe tendrils against the window pane;
  
Sleep, my child, thy little couch is canopied and fringed
  
By the locked wings of angels against the storm and rain.
  
Slept the weary elf-child; slept the mother weary;
  
Angels folded ermine wings, like cope of kneeling priest;
  
Then upwards through the storm-blast, on their white breasts cradled,
  
Passed the sleeping elf-child to the Child-God's natal Feast.
P.A. SHEEHAN









