The Poetry Corner

Odell

By James Stephens

My mind is sad and weary thinking how The griffins of the Gael went over the sea From noble Eir, and are fighting now In France and Flanders and in Germany. If they, 'mid whom I sported without dread, Were home I would not mind what foe might do, Or fear tax-man Odell would seize my bed To pay the hearth-rate that is overdue. I pray to Him who, in the haughty hour Of Babel, threw confusion on each tongue, That I may see our princes back in power, And see Odell, the tax-collector, hung.