#IrishWriters
WE were down in the Indian Ocean… The last six months in the tropics… Five men up on the royal yards, we… And every day like its brother,—ju… Nothing to break the sameness: wat…
From that fair land and drear land… Of which through years I do not c… I brought a tale, learned not by w… But formed by finding here one gol… And there another; and with hands…
JOYS have three stages, Hoping,… The hands of Hope are empty, and… For the joy we take, in the taking… Now, which is the better—the joy u…
ONE righteous word for Law—the c… One living truth of Faith—God reg… One primal test of Freedom—all co… One sacred Revolution—change of m… One trust unfailing for the night…
‘TWAS a dismal winter’s evening,… But within, the cheerful fire cast… O’er our pleasant little parlor, t… There she sat beside the glowing g… And beyond, within the shadow, in…
THEY came in the early spring-da… With the first refreshing showers And I watched the growing beauty Of the little drooping flowers. They had no bright hues to charm m…
DIXON, a Choctaw, twenty years… Had killed a miner in a Leadville… Tried and condemned, the rough-bea… And watch him stride in freedom fr… ‘Return on Friday, to be shot to…
WISE men use days as husbandmen… And steal rich drops from every pr… Others, like wasps on blossomed ap… Find gall, not honey, in the sweet… Congratulations for a scene like t…
The Infinite always is silent: It is only the Finite speaks. Our words are the idle wave-caps On the deep that never breaks. We may question with wand of scien…
I START! I have slept for a mom… I have dreamt, sitting here by her… Oh, how lonely! What was it that… What presence, what heaven-sent ai… It was nothing, you say. But I tr…
‘HOW shall I a habit break?’ As you did that habit make. As you gathered, you must lose; As you yielded, now refuse. Thread by thread the strands we tw…
WHERE shall we seek for a hero,… Our laurels are wreathed for conqu… But we honor a shrine unfinished,… If we sing the deed that was sown… Shall we take for a sign this Neg…
I am tired of planning and toiling In the crowded hives of men; Heart-weary of building and spoili… And spoiling and building again. And I long for the dear old river…
WHAT song is best for the soldie… Take no heed of the words, nor cho… Let it burst out from the heart li… Natural, clear, resistless, leapin… Whether of love or hate or war or…
‘What is the real good?’ I ask in a musing mood. ‘Order,’ said the law court; ‘Knowledge,’ said the school; ‘Truth,’ said the wise man;
