Friday, February 5, 2016

Suppose it were Friday cx: Ay, they had been impractical

Don't you remember, Seaneen,
and how it was. The road led
up past the chapel, and how 
it wound and it wound. 

And there was the field where 
Dan Tobin's bull chased you. 

It was a lovely little house,
Seaneen. And the roses! Your
father used to tease me about
them, but he was proud of them,

                     Could you tell me the way
                     to Inisfree?

                     Do you see that road over
                     there? Don't take that one,
                     it'll do you no good.

                     Oh, Inisfree you want. Be
                     savin' your breath, let me
                     direct the gentleman.

                     Happen to know the way to

                     If he knew the way there,
                     would he be asking the way
                     to Inisfree?

                     There's many knows Knoghen-
                     or, that doesn't know Inis-

                     If you'd take the time to
                     study your country's his-
                     tory, Mr Maloney - -

There is a cast of mind, not
confined to the United States
but infamous for permeating
the place, of quiet endurance
of being chased by Dan Tobin's
bull, and heaps of its waste,
following the path home where
even the father is proud of
the roses. This is not a cast
of mind to be deflected from
its confidence, by rules of
navigation which exalt the


John Ford
Frank S. Nugent
  and John Ford

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