The Ballad of Father Gillian by W.B. Yeats(Text)
Poem Text: The Ballad of Father Gilligan by W.B. Yeats > The old priest Peter Gilligan Was weary night and day; For half his flock were in their beds Or under green sods lay. > Once, while he nodded on a chair, At the moth-hour of eve, Another poor man sent for him, And he began to grieve. > "I have no rest, nor joy, nor peace, For people die and die"; And after cried he, "God forgive! My body spake, not I!" > He knelt, and leaning on the chair He prayed and fell asleep; And the moth-hour went from the fields, And stars began to peep. > They slowly into millions grew, And leaves shook in the wind; And God covered the world with shade, And whispered to mankind. > Upon the time of sparrow chirp When the moths came once more, The old priest Peter Gilligan Stood upright on the floor. > "Mavrone, mavrone! The man has died, While I slept on the chair"; He roused his horse out of its sleep, And rode with little care. > He rode now as he n...