Take any station, pavement, circus… Where men their styles of print ma… And there—ten times more on it tha… There you shall find him swathed i… Nothing can stay the placing of hi…

Fresh from his fastnesses Wholesome and spacious, The North Wind, the mad huntsman, Halloas on his white hounds Over the grey, roaring

One with the ruined sunset, The strange forsaken sands, What is it waits, and wanders, And signs with desparate hands? What is it calls in the twilight -

To GARRYOWEN upon an organ gr… Two girls are jigging. Riotously… With eyes aflame, quick bosoms, ha… As in the tumult of a witches’ rou… Youngsters and youngsters round th…

Carry me out Into the wind and the sunshine, Into the beautiful world. O, the wonder, the spell of the st… The stature and strength of the ho…

Blithe dreams arise to greet us, And life feels clean and new, For the old love comes to meet us In the dawning and the dew. O’erblown with sunny shadows,

O, the fun, the fun and frolic That The Wind that Shakes the Ba… Scatters through a penny-whistle Tickled with artistic fingers! Kate the scrubber (forty summers,

Fountains that frisk and sprinkle The moss they overspill; Pools that the breezes crinkle; The wheel beside the mill, With its wet, weedy frill;

She’s an enchanting little Israel… A world of hidden dimples!—Dusky-… A starry-glancing daughter of the… With hair escaped from some Arabi… Her lip is red, her cheek is golde…

Two and thirty is the ploughman. He’s a man of gallant inches, And his hair is close and curly, And his beard; But his face is wan and sunken,

Though, if you ask her name, she s… Being plain Elizabeth, e’en let i… And own that, if her aspirates tak… She ever makes a point, in washing… Handling the engine, turning taps…

Do you remember That afternoon—that Sunday aftern… When, as the kirks were ringing in… And the grey city teemed With Sabbath feelings and aspects…

Spring winds that blow As over leagues of myrtle-blooms a… Bevies of spring clouds trooping s… Like matrons heavy bosomed and agl… With the mild and placid pride of…

In the waste hour Between to-day and yesterday We watched, while on my arm - Living flesh of her flesh, bone of… Dabbled in sweat the sacred head

Bring her again, O western wind, Over the western sea! Gentle and good and fair and kind, Bring her again to me! Not that her fancy holds me dear,