SHE WALKED UNAWARE O, she walked unaware of her own increasing beauty That was holding men's thoughts from market to plough, As she passed by, intent on her womanly duties And she without leisure to be wayward or proud; Or if she had pride then it was not in her thinking But thoughtless in her body like a flower of good breeding. The first time I saw her spreading coloured linen Beyond the green willow she gave me gentle greeting With no more intention than the leaning willow tree. Though she smiled without intention yet from that day forward Her beauty filled like water the four corners of my being. And she rested in my heart like a hare in the form That is shaped to herself. And I that would be singing Or whistling at all time went silently then; 'Till I drew her aside among straight stems of beeches When the blackbird was sleeping and she promised that never The fields would be ripe but I'd gather all sweetness, A red moon of August would rise on our wedding. October is spreading bright flame along stripped willows, Low fires of the dogwood burn down to grey water -- God pity me now and all desolate sinners Demented with beauty! I have blackened my thought In drouths of bad longing, and all brightness goes shrouded Since he came with his rapture of wild words that mirrored Her beauty and made her ungentle and proud. To-night she will spread her brown hair on his pillow, But I shall be hearing the harsh cries of wild fowl. -- Patrick MacDONOGH (1902- ).