#IrishWriters
DEAR islands of the Orient, Where Nature’s first of love was… Sweet hill-tops of the summered la… Where gods and men went hand in ha… In golden days of sinless earth!
HER hair was a waving bronze, and… Deep wells that might cover a broo… And who, till he weighed it, could… That her heart was a cinder instea…
I MAY not speak in words, dear,… To tell their crimson secret in le… They plead for smiles and kisses a… And every purple veinlet thrills w… O, let me see the glance, dear, th…
DEAD, with his harness on him: Rigid and cold and white, Marking the place of the vanguard Still in the ancient fight. The climber dead on the hill-side,
I’D rather live in Bohemia than i… For only there are the values true… And the laurels gathered in all me… The prizes of traffic and state ar… By shrewdness or force or by deeds…
THOSE are vulgar things we pay f… While the precious and the peerles… Common debts are scored and cancel… But the debts from men to ages, th… Always see, the noblest nations ke…
THE kindly words that rise within… And thrill it with their sympathet… But die ere spoken, fail to play t… And claim a merit that is not thei… The kindly word unspoken is a sin,…
THE words of the lips are double… True or false, as we say or sing: But the words of the eyes that mix… Are always saying the same old thi…
THE day and night are symbols of… And each has part in all that God… There is no ill without its compen… And life and death are only light… There never beat a heart so base a…
Have I no future left me? Is there no struggling ray From the sun of my life outshining Down on my darksome way? Will there no gleam of sunshine
AN INCIDENT OF THE F… NO song of a soldier riding down To the raging fight from Winchest… No song of a time that shook the e… With the nations’ throe at a natio…
A KING once made a gallery of ar… With portraits of dead friends and… And at the end, ‘neath curtains dr… An empty marble pedestal was place… Here, every day, the king would co…
NEVER nobler was the Senate, Never grander the debate: Rome’s old gods are on their trial By the judges of the state! Torn by warring creeds, the Fathe…
A NATION’S greatness lies in m… One master-mind is worth a million… No royal robes have marked the pla… But Samson-strength to burst the… The might of empire gives no crown…
Trapper died—our hero—and we griev… In every heart in camp the sorrow… “His soul was red!” the Indian cr… “A white man, he!” the grim old Y… So, brief and strong, each mourner…