Quotation by Seamus Heaney

Until, on Vinegar Hill, the fatal conclave.
Terraced thousands died, shaking scythes at cannon.
The hillside blushed, soaked in our broken wave.
They buried us without shroud or coffin
And in August the barley grew up out of the grave.
Seamus Heaney (b. 1939), Irish poet, critic. Requiem for the Croppies (l. 10–14). . .

Selected Poems 1966–1987 [Seamus Heaney]. (1990) Farrar, Straus and Giroux.
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