#Irish
Dustily over the highway pipes the… Wind and the rising sun, and wavin… It brings to me days gone by when… The wind is the voice of my home,… When, fresh from the desk and ledg…
He strode across the schoolroom in… Great Hector, clanging in his bra… And all the cringing Greeks, with… Creaked into jabbering Ks and tur… Achilles, safe because he could no…
There’s a sound of many voices in… And letters coming up in shoals to… And every boat that crosses from t… Is bringing waves of shearers for… For the shearing’s coming round, b…
The moon is bright, and the winds… Orion swings, with his belted ligh… North and south from the mountain… There’s many an eye will see no sl… There’s many a hand will toil to-n…
Not every man has gentians in his… in soft September, at slow, sad M… Bavarian gentians, big and dark, o… darkening the daytime, torch-like,… gloom,
My lute awake! perform the last Labour that thou and I shall wast… And end that I have now begun; For when this song is sung and pas… My lute be still, for I have done…
Whoso list to hunt, I know where… But as for me, hélas, I may no mo… The vain travail hath wearied me s… I am of them that farthest cometh… Yet may I by no means my wearied…
The handsome and self-absorbed you… looked at the lovely and self-abso… and thrilled. The lovely and self-absorbed girl looked back at the handsome and se…
The longë love that in my thought… And in mine hert doth keep his res… Into my face presseth with bold pr… And therein campeth, spreading his… She that me learneth to love and s…
In the lands away beyond the sea,… Where they drink their coffee thic… They have white Circassian girls… And it seems to me in our free lan… It’s fenced about with custom and…
And wilt thou leave me thus? Say nay, say nay, for shame, To save thee from the blame Of all my grief and grame; And wilt thou leave me thus?
Madam, withouten many words Once I am sure ye will or no... And if ye will, then leave your bo… And use your wit and show it so, And with a beck ye shall me call;
Ye old mule that think yourself so… Leave off with craft your beauty t… For it is true, without any fable, No man setteth more by riding in y… Too much travail so do your train…
My galley, chargèd with forgetful… Thorough sharp seas in winter nigh… ‘Tween rock and rock; and eke mine… That is my lord, steereth with cru… And every owre a thought in readin…
Forget not yet the tried intent Of such a truth as I have meant; My great travail so gladly spent, Forget not yet. Forget not yet when first began