Cathleen Monologue from The Land of Heart's Desire

From The Land of Heart's Desire by W.B. Yeats

female · melancholic · 52 sec

We must find out this castle in the wood Before the chill o’ the night. [The musicians begin to tune their instruments. Do not blame me, Good woman, for the tympan and the harp: I was bid fly the terror of the times And wrap me round with music and sweet song Or else pine to my grave. I have lost my way; Aleel, the poet, who should know these woods, Because we met him on their border but now Wandering and singing like the foam of the sea, Is so wrapped up in dreams of terrors to come That he can give no help.

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