The Narrow Road by Douglas Hyde

Once I was happy,
And joyous with that,
Now I am sorrowful
Weary and sick.
Thinking on the colleen
By night and by day,
Hurt by the colleen,
Wounded with love.
The sight of her eyes,
The sweetness of her voice,
It is these that have stricken me
And left me without guidance.
A colleen like she is
Is not in this life,
And she herself has left
Myself without sense.
 A colleen like she is
Is not in this world;
Vein of my own heart
Whom I have chosen.
Little hand of my love—
It is whiter than snow;
She hath left us with wounds
And with wandering of the mind.
Three long months
Almost, am I lying;
I am pierced with her arrows
And my heart in torment.
O God of Graces,
Listen to my prayer,
Give death to me
Or give me her.
Look on my lamentations,
Look on my tears;
Were not my thoughts on thee, Storeen,
All these years?
Look on my lamentations,
Listen to me, Aroon,
I am as a sheep,
A sheep without its lamb!
Wilt thou be hard,
Colleen, as thou art tender?
Wilt thou be without pity
On us for ever?
 Listen to me, Noireen,
Listen, Aroon;
Put some word of healing
From thy quiet mouth.
I am in the pathway
That is dark and narrow,
The little path that has guided
Thousands to slumber.