#IrishWriters
‘Going, going!’ the voice was loud… And, rising, silenced the chatteri… ‘Going! going! shall it be gone?’ The auctioneer held up an old viol… ‘The mute though tarnished is silv…
The fairies, the fairies, the misc… Have stolen my loved one, my darli… With charms and enchantments they… So my love cannot comfort and my p… The fairies, the fairies, I’ll lo…
So for the luxury of the flesh, wr… In the bear’s coat sheltering its… Give wine for its hot veins, fame… All ends in one eclipse, Sunshine or snows.
My darling laughed in the dawning, And the birds perched low to hear. The quick sprung anew from dead as… That Spring’s passing feet had fl… Oh, Life came over the meadows,
Oh! do not rudely wake her, nor re… Those pulsing limbs for this hosti… To timid life, that cast in death-… What he had moulded for his ecstas… Nay! rather pity one so keen to le…
Who knocks at the Geraldine’s doo… In the black storm and the rain? With the thunder crash and the shr… Comes the moan of a creature’s pai… And once they knocked, yet never a…
What we must do and may not do. This is the World’s whole refrain… Till beating on the wearied brain, We wonder what is true. My love! my love! who passes by,
She walks in a lonely garden On the path her feet have made, With high-heeled shoes, gold-buckl… And gown of a flowered brocade; The hair that falls on her shoulde…
Lighted by the lady moon, Breezes blow and aspens quiver, By the stream’s enchanted tune Singing to the distant river, Walks Cecilia.
Goodbye, sweet friend, goodbye And all the world must be Between my friend and me; And nothing is, dear heart, But hands that meet to part;
‘It will be all the same in a thou… And in a thousand years It will be all the same, Whether or no Women’s tears flow,
[IN MEMORY OF PATRICK P… I saw a dreamer, I saw a poet, On the red battle-field fell my sl… ‘Lover of birds and flowers, singe… Dying with men of war, what do you…
Listen to the tramping! Oh, God o… Can we kneel at prayer, sleep all… While the echo thunders?—God of p… Can we think of prayer—or sleep—so… Million upon million fleeing feet…
Is there no bond of blood to you,… Who have called her ours, the anci… And here we hope to rest from Lif… Building of souls our patriotic N… Can we not stand amongst the purpl…
Beside my window sighs the last lo… Saying, ‘Alas! farewell! Youth’s… Like some sweet spirit waiting for… Her perfume hovers round her droop… There sings a bird the yellow leav…