Before my time my kindred were As felons in their land, Because they claimed the liberty That freemen understand. Ere I was born in Dublin town

All on a golden morning the beggar… To gather branch and berry, the ha… And as she went a-singing, a gipsy… Beneath a bower of branches—a grey… ‘Your fortune, pretty lady, I pra…

A Prayer in Time of War Whence comes the rain that ceasele… And seems to hold the bitter taste… Is it the lonely sorrow of the nig… Where patient women shed their hop…

When dainty Mona walks this way My foolish heart will beat, And leaves me, though I turn asid… To lie beneath her feet. It follows her all up and down

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,

The wind that blows from the west Taps at my window, sighing; But I pull the curtains close, I’ll hear no more its crying. Oh, the north wind, it is good!

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…

Laughter and song for my cheer, Life is so fair. None so happy as I Anywhere; Birds in the woods carol clear,

Before her mirror in a pouting moo… Afraid to weep lest anger should r… The picture there, she did impatie… Why Fate should treat her worse t… Her lilac frock her mother’s hand…

When Youth, led on by love and fo… Kissing sweet eyes beyond the allo… That he should turn to labour and… Beyond his window beauty breaks to… O greybeard, pause before thy ange…

I want to talk to thee of many thi… Or sit in silence when the robin s… His littl’ song, when comes the wi… I want to sit beside thee, cheek b… I want to hear thy voice my name r…

Droop all the flowers in my garden… All their fair heads hang low; For rose, their fairest companion, Never again will they know. Bring me no flowers for wearing,

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…

centeredA TRUE STORY I am a man who hath known trouble, O’Ruarc of the Lake. On my life’s glass joy rose as a b… To glitter and break.

I could have sung as sweet as any… Who in unfettered skies doth find… And sings to leaning angels prayer… For in God’s garden the most lowl… |But came the cares—a grey and sti…