The Appointment

Tree! you are years standing there. 

Gripping tight to the side of the hill,

And your branches are spread on the air,

While you stand so sad and so still,

And you do not complain

When you're wet with the rain,

Though I think you have often been ill.

I would like (but it could not be done.

So you must not keep me to my word)

To take you away when the sun

Goes down, and the breezes are stirred,

And hug you in bed

With myself, till you said

That to sleep on a hill was absurd.

O beautiful tree! when the night

Is dark, and the winds come and scold,

I would love then to cuddle you tight,

For I fear you will die of the cold;

But you are so tall,

And my bed is so small,

That it could not be done, I am told.

My mother is calling for me,

And the baby is wanting to play,

I shall have to go home now, you see,

But I'll give you a kiss if I may:

I would stay if I could,

But a child must be good,

So I must, darling tree, go away.

I will leave you my pencil and slate,

And this little pin from my frock;

But now I must go for it's late,

And my mother is rattling the lock:

So good-bye, darling dear,

I'll come back, never fear,

In the morning at seven o'clock.

The Rocky Road to Dublin/The Adventures of Seumas Beg [1915]