The Unappeasable Host (Хелависа)

       
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The Danaan children laugh, in cradles of wrought gold,
      
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And clap their hands together, and half close their eyes,
               
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For they will ride the   North when the ger-eagle flies,
             
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With heavy whitening wings, and a heart fallen cold

I kiss my wailing child and press it to my breast,
And hear the narrow graves calling my child and me,
Desolate wind that cry over the wandering sea;
Desolate wind that hover in the flaming West;

Desolate wind that beats the doors of Heaven, and beat
The doors of Hell and blow there many a whimpering ghost;
O heart that winds have shaken, the unappeasable host
Is comelier than candles at Mother Mary's feet.

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