in English. His collections of Irish folk-lore and
poetry were among the most notable contributions to the Celtic
revival; they were (see Preface), to a large extent, responsible for
it. Since 1909 he has been Professor of Modern Irish in University
College, Dublin.

The poem which is here quoted is one of his many brilliant and
reanimating translations. In its music and its peculiar rhyme-scheme,
it reproduces the peculiar flavor as well as the meter of the West
Irish original.

I SHALL NOT DIE FOR THEE

For thee, I shall not die,
Woman of high fame and name;
Foolish men thou mayest slay
I and they are not the same.

Why should I expire
For the fire of an eye,
Slender waist or swan-like limb,
Is't for them that I should die?

The round breasts, the fresh skin,
Cheeks crimson, hair so long and rich;
Indeed, indeed, I shall not die,
Please God, not I, for any such.

The golden hair, the forehead thin,
The chaste mien, the gracious ease,
The rounded heel, the languid tone,--
Fools alone find death from these.

Thy sharp wit, thy perfect calm,
Thy thin palm like foam o' the sea;
Thy white neck, thy blue eye,
I shall not die for thee.

Woman, graceful as the swan,
A wise man did nurture me.
Little palm, white neck, bright eye,
I shall not die for ye.

_Amy Levy_

Amy Levy, a singularly gifted Jewess, was born at Clapham, in 1861. A
fiery young poet, she burdened her own intensity with the sorrows of
her race. She wrote one novel, _Reuben Sachs_, and two volumes of
poetry--the more distinctive of the two being half-pathetically and
half-ironically entitled _A Minor Poet_ (1884). After several years of
brooding introspection, she committed suicide in 1889 at the age of
28.

EPITAPH

(_On a commonplace person who died in bed_)

This is the end of him, here he lies:
The dust in his throat, the worm in his eyes,
The mould in his mouth, the turf on his breast;
This is the end of him, this is best.
He will never lie on his couch awake,
Wide-eyed, tearless, till dim daybreak.
Never again will he smile and smile
When his heart is breaking all the while.
He will never stretch out his hands in vain
Groping and groping--never again.
Never ask for bread, get a stone instead,
Never pretend that the stone is bread;
Nor sway an