#IrishWriters
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
I thought I heard Him calling. D… A sound, a little sound? My curio… Is dinned with flying noises, and… Goes—whisper, whisper, whisper sil… Till all its whispers spread into…
The leaves are fresh after the rai… The air is cool and clear, The sun is shining warm again, The sparrows hopping in the lane Are brisk and full of cheer.
AND then I pressed the shell Close to my ear And listened well, And straightway like a bell Came low and clear
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…
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…
I went to the Wood of Flowers (No one was with me): I was there alone for hours. I was happy as could be In the Wood of Flowers.
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
Cow, Cow! I and thou Are looking at each other’s eyes You are lying on the grass Eating every time I pass,
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…
I am the maker, The builder, the breaker, The eagle-winged helper, The speedy forsaker! The lance and the lyre,
I heard a bird at dawn Singing sweetly on a tree, That the dew was on the lawn, And the wind was on the lea; But I didn’t listen to him,
I saw God. Do you doubt it? Do you dare to doubt it? I saw the Almighty Man. His hand Was resting on a mountain, and He looked upon the World and all…
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.
Do not forget my charge I beg of… That of what flow’rs you find of f… And sweetest odor you do gather th… Are best of all the best—a fragran… A tall calm lily from the watersid…