Hollow Hill (part 6)
Dreamed 1940 by Kathleen Raine
One night in a dream The poet who had died a year ago Led me up the ancient stair Of an ancestral tower of stone. Towards us out of the dark blew such sweet air It was the warm breath of the spirit, I knew, Fragrant with wild thyme that grew In childhood's fields; he led me on, Touched a thin partition, and was gone. Beyond the fallen barrier Bright over sweet meadows rose the sun. |
EDITOR'S NOTE
Given the Irish setting of this six-part set of poems, the stone tower, and the winding stair, the poet is surely Yeats, dating Raine's dream to 1940.
SOURCE: Collected Poems by Kathleen Raine, 2001, p. 120
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