#IrishWriters
A little girl and a big ugly man Went down the road. The girl was… And asking to go home, but when sh… He hit her on the head and sent he… And called her a young imp, and sa…
Cow, Cow! I and thou Are looking at each other’s eyes You are lying on the grass Eating every time I pass,
Come from your bed my drowsy gentl… And you, fair lady, rise and braid… And let the children wash, if wash… If not, assist you them, and make… As is the morning and the morning…
The wind stood up and gave a shout… He whistled on his fingers and Kicked the withered leaves about And thumped the branches with his… And said that he’d kill and kill,
Every Sunday there’s a throng Of pretty girls, who trot along In a pious, breathless state (They are nearly always late) To the Chapel, where they pray
We thought at first, this man is a… Or the branch of a mighty and anci… That silly, sulky, illiterate, bla… Who was hatched by foreign vulgari… The good men of Clare were drinki…
The lanky hank of a she in the inn… Nearly killed me for asking the lo… May the devil grip the whey-faced… And beat bad manners out of her sk… That parboiled imp, with the harde…
And then I wakened up in such a f… I thought I heard a movement in t… But did not dare to look; I snugg… Down underneath the bedclothes—the… Of a tremendous voice said, ‘Sit…
So Eden was deserted, and at eve Into the quiet place God came to… His face was sad, His hands hung… Along his robe; too sorrowful to f… He paced along the grassy paths an…
Come with me, under my coat, And we will drink our fill Of the milk of the white goat, Or wine, if it be thy will; And we will talk until
The moon comes every night to peep Through the window where I lie, And I pretend to be asleep; But I watch the moon as it goes b… And it never makes a sound.
A sparrow hopped about the street, And he was not a bit afraid; He flew between a horse’s feet, And ate his supper undismayed: I think myself the horse knew well
IN THE scented bud of the mornin… When the windy grass went rippling… I saw my dear one walking slow, In the field where the daisies are… We did not laugh and we did not sp…
I cling and swing On a branch, or sing Through the cool, clear hush of M… Or fling my wing On the air, and bring
AND then I pressed the shell Close to my ear And listened well, And straightway like a bell Came low and clear