#The Cry of the Curlews #### Corpus of Electronic Texts Edition ### Background details and bibliographic information The Cry of the Curlews ====================== Author: Patrick Augustine Sheehan --------------------------------- ### 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 ##### Correction Text has been checked and proof-read once. ##### Normalization The electronic text represents the edited text. ##### Quotation There are no quotation marks. ##### 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) (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. --- #### Corpus of Electronic Texts Edition: E901002-001 ### The Cry of the Curlews: Author: Patrick Augustine Sheehan --- 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. --- 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.