Maurteen Monologue from The Land of Heart's Desire

From The Land of Heart's Desire by W. B. (William Butler) Yeats

male · contemplative · 59 sec

That's true--but she's too young to know it's true. (BRIDGET: She's old enough to know that it is wrong To mope and idle.) I've little blame for her; She's dull when my big son is in the fields, And that and maybe this good woman's tongue Have driven her to hide among her dreams Like children from the dark under the bed-clothes. (BRIDGET: She'd never do a turn if I were silent.) And maybe it is natural upon May Eve To dream of the good people. But tell me, girl, If you've the branch of blessed quicken wood That women hang upon the post of the door That they may send good luck into the house? Remember they may steal new-married brides After the fall of twilight on May Eve, Or what old women mutter at the fire Is but a pack of lies.

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