#IrishWriters #NobelPrize #1899 #TheWindAmongTheReeds
THE Roaring Tinker if you like, But Mannion is my name, And I beat up the common sort And think it is no shame. The common breeds the common,
Dry timber under that rich foliage… At wine-dark midnight in the sacre… Too old for a man’s love I stood… Imagining men. Imagining that I… A greater with a lesser pang assua…
Though nurtured like the sailing m… In beauty’s murderous brood, She walked awhile and blushed awhi… And on my pathway stood Until I thought her body bore
The intellect of man is forced to… perfection of the life, or of the… And if it take the second must ref… A heavenly mansion, raging in the… When all that story’s finished, wh…
DEAR fellow-artist, why so free With every sort of company, With every Jack and Jill? Choose your companions from the be… Who draws a bucket with the rest
Where, where but here have pride a… That long to give themselves for w… To shake their wicked sides at you… Restraining reckless middle-age?
A PITY beyond all telling Is hid in the heart of love: The folk who are buying and sellin… The clouds on their journey above, The cold wet winds ever blowing,
O THOUGHT, fly to her when the… Awakens an old memory, and say, ‘Your strength, that is so lofty a… It might call up a new age, callin… The queens that were imagined long…
A moonlight moor. Fairies lead… Male Fairies: Do not fear us, ear… We will lead you hand in hand By the willows in the glade, By the gorse on the high land,
I CALL on those that call me son… Grandson, or great-grandson, On uncles, aunts, great-uncles or… To judge what I have done. Have I, that put it into words,
There was a man whom Sorrow named… And he, of his high comrade Sorro… Went walking with slow steps along… And humming Sands, where windy su… And he called loudly to the stars…
‘THOUGH logic choppers rule the… And every man and maid and boy Has marked a distant object down, An aimless joy is a pure joy,’ Or so did Tom O’Roughley say
THAT civilisation may not sink, Its great battle lost, Quiet the dog, tether the pony To a distant post; Our master Caesar is in the tent
O’Driscoll drove with a song The wild duck and the drake From the tall and the tufted reeds Of the drear Hart Lake. And he saw how the reeds grew dark
Ribb at the Tomb of Baile and Ai… BECAUSE you have found me in th… With open book you ask me what I… Mark and digest my tale, carry it… To those that never saw this tonsu…
