#CarpeDiem #IrishWriters
ONLY a fallen horse, stretched o… Stretched in the broken shafts, an… Only a fallen horse, and a circle… Watching the 'frighted teamster go… Hold! for his toil is over—no more…
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…
A MAN will trust another man, an… His secret thought and act, as if… A woman—does she tell her sins? A… She never knew a woman she could t…
Well, mate, you’ve asked about a f… You met to-day, in a black-and-yel… Chain-gang suit, with a peddler’s… Or with some such burden, strapped… Did you meet him square? No, pass…
Once in a lifetime, we may see the… Tremble and lift, that hides symbo… The Spirit’s vision, when the sen… Sweeps the weird meaning that the… Deep in the midst of turmoil, it m…
SOLDIER, why do you shrink from… The bullet that whizzed is past; t… Stand straight! you cannot shrink… A comrade in front may hear it whi…
CAN the earth have a voice? Can… To murmur and rail at the demigods… Trample them! Grind their vulgar… The earth was made for lords and t… For the conquerors and the social…
I am Liberty-God’s daughter! My symbols-a law and a torch; Not a sword to threaten slaughter, Nor a flame to dazzle or scorch; But a light that the world may see…
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…
THERE once was a time when, as o… The earth was not round, but an en… The sea was as wide as the heavens… Just millions of miles, and begin… And that was the time—ay, and more…
The dead who died for Ireland! Oh, these are living words To nerve the hearts of patriots— To steel avenging swords— They thrill the soul when spoken,
NOT many friends Wish I you; Love makes amends For the few. Slight bonds are best
“HE is false to the heart!' she s… He promises fair as a tree in blos… The fruit is rotten ere ripe. Tea… All withered and wasted! and still… Comfort? There is no comfort when…
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…
THE red rose whispers of passion, And the white rose breathes of lov… O, the red rose is a falcon, And the white rose is a dove. But I send you a cream-white rose…