#IrishWriters #NobelPrize #1910 #TheGreenHelmetAndOtherPoems
ON the grey rock of Cashel the mi… Has called up the cold spirits tha… When the old moon is vanished from… And the new still hides her horn. Under blank eyes and fingers never…
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,
WOULD I could cast a sail on th… Where many a king has gone And many a king’s daughter, And alight at the comely trees and… The playing upon pipes and the dan…
Behold that great Plotinus swim, Buffeted by such seas; Bland Rhadamanthus beckons him, But the Golden Race looks dim, Salt blood blocks his eyes.
NOW as at all times I can see in… In their stiff, painted clothes, t… Appear and disappear in the blue d… With all their ancient faces like… And all their helms of silver hove…
i{"Though to my feathers in the we… i{I have stood here from break of… i{I have not found a thing to eat,… i{For only rubbish comes my way.} i{Am I to live on lebeen-lone?'}
III Slim adolescence that a nymph has… Peleus on Thetis stares. Her limbs are delicate as an eyeli… Love has blinded him with tears;
Many ingenious lovely things are g… That seemed sheer miracle to the m… protected from the circle of the m… That pitches common things about.… Amid the ornamental bronze and sto…
Bring me to the blasted oak That I, midnight upon the stroke, (All find safety in the tomb.) May call down curses on his head Because of my dear Jack that’s de…
That is no country for old men. T… In one another’s arms, birds in th… —Those dying generations—at their… The salmon—falls, the mackerel—cro… Fish, flesh, or fowl, commend all…
COME play with me; Why should you run Through the shaking tree As though I’d a gun To strike you dead?
Once, when midnight smote the air, Eunuchs ran through Hell and met From thoroughfare to thoroughfare, While that great Juan galloped by… And like these to rail and sweat
THERE is a queen in China, or m… And birthdays and holidays such pr… Of her unblemished lineaments, a w… That she might be that sprightly g… And there’s a score of duchesses,…
‘TIME to put off the world and g… And find my health again in the se… Beggar to beggar cried, being fren… ‘And make my soul before my pate i… ’And get a comfortable wife and ho…
A storm beaten old watch-tower, A blind hermit rings the hour. All-destroying sword-blade still Carried by the wandering fool. Gold-sewn silk on the sword-blade,
