Last eve as I leaned from my latt… Where the grey of the sea misted i… Came with quick beating of wings a… Beautiful birds, and I wept, bein… How the wind’s strong invisible ha…

‘There’s a hound at the door, Sha… There’s a hound at the door. If you take down the bar or the sh… I shall see you no more, I shall see you no more!’

Now God between us and all harm, For I to-night have seen A banshee in the shadow pass Along the dark boreen. And as she went she keened and cri…

A BALLAD OF SORROW ‘Jeanne Bras! Jeanne Bras! arise… Jeanne Bras! Jeanne Bras! will y… ‘Now who comes so late at my door,… Who knocks thus my slumbering to b…

How can I laugh or dance as other… Or ply my rock or reel? My heart will still return to drea… Beside my spinning-wheel. My little dog he cried out in the…

She had hair gold as her father’s… She tripped and sung, Like to a little lamb new-born, So gay, so young. She gathered lone in the long day’…

I saw Winter 'neath a spindle tre… She plucked berries bright to crow… She was singing little robin’s son… While wild beech-leaves round and… I ran home into my little house,

O to be a woman! to be left to piq… When the winds are out and calling… Whisht! it whistles at the windows… There! the last leaves of the beec… All the boats at anchor they are p…

Love lit a beacon in thine eyes, And I out in the storm, And lo! the night had taken wings; I dream me safe and warm. Love lit a beacon in thine eyes,

Is it some shade from Paradise, Shut down beneath the clouding ski… This wandering voice that ever cri… In its pathetic sweetness? Some loving soul that, leaning far

The kine of my father, they are st… The young goat’s at mischief, but… For all through the night did I h… O youth of my loving, and is it we… All through the night sat my mothe…

To clasp his spirit undefiled, my… He said no sad reproach to me, but… O coward my eyes that would not se… O coward my flesh that would not l… He might have said, “This rose I…

Roses red for the fair young head… Let them be half blown, For a rose in June it will fade t… For thee my own The fairest blossoms in all love’s…

White rose must die all in the you… Though nightingale should sing the… Though summer breezes woo, She will not hear. Too delicate for the sun’s kiss so…

I cried all night to you, I called till day was here; Perhaps you could not come, Or were too tirèd, dear. Your chair I set by mine,