It was the Black Earl Roderick Who rode towards the south; The frown was heavy on his brow, The sneer upon his mouth. Behind him rode a hundred men

I built a house, four perfect wall… To hold the landly roof, whose she… Did tempt the darting swallows fro… To nest and stay all loth and late… Wide windows, planned to hold the…

Half seated on a mossy crag, Half crouching in the heather; I found a little Irish maid, All in June’s golden weather. Like some fond hand that loved the…

All the long day the robin on the… Piped his sweet song To her who on her hidden nest Oft turned beneath her patient bre… Her pretty eggs in tender quest

Lone played the child within the m… Where fountains sang and sunshine… Half-hid among red roses on his wa… He came at last upon a dark abode. He knew not sorrow, and when cries…

Last eve and through the night I… Go forth across the fields, and st… I hear it echo, and the fierce rep… Of some poor stricken heart too fa… Beside my gate a little calf, bere…

‘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…

I drew her out of the wave High up on the windy shore. Oh, never a fish I caught So fair in my net before. And white she was as the foam

Bring to me white roses, roses, pi… Sweet stock and gillyflowers, popp… Bee-flowers and mignonette, with b… I would make a coverlet for my nar… Bring me no silken cloth, velvet s…

In the heart of a rose Lies the heart of a maid; If you be not afraid You will wear it. Who knows? In the pink of its bloom,

All in a bleak December My heart had summer-time; Crouched by the glowing ember, We found an Eden’s clime. The storm that shook the casements

Whose is the voice that will not l… I hear it speak. Where is the shore will gratify my… Show what I seek? Not yours, weak Muse, to mimic th…

There is a shadow on the head I l… There is a danger lurks thy path u… It murmurs low as coos the mating… It calls in grey and gathered clou… For thee, for thee, Kathleen ni-H…

What is the secret of your life, b… Ox the sweet grass eating? Who strung the mighty sinews in yo… Who set that great heart beating? What is the secret of your death,…

Heaven help your home to-night, MacCormac; for I know A white witch woman is your bride: You married for your woe. You thought her but a simple maid