#IrishWriters
While I, that reed-throated whisp… Who comes at need, although not no… A clear articulation in the air, But inwardly, surmise companions Beyond the fling of the dull ass’s…
SADDLE and ride, I heard a man… Out of Ben Bulben and Knocknarea… i{What says the Clock in the Grea… All those tragic characters ride But turn from Rosses’ crawling ti…
III Slim adolescence that a nymph has… Peleus on Thetis stares. Her limbs are delicate as an eyeli… Love has blinded him with tears;
POUR wine and dance if manhood s… Bring roses if the rose be yet in… The cataract smokes upon the mount… Our Father Rosicross is in his to… Pull down the blinds, bring fiddle…
Much did I rage when young, Being by the world oppressed, But now with flattering tongue It speeds the parting guest.
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…
We sat under an old thorn-tree And talked away the night, Told all that had been said or don… Since first we saw the light, And when we talked of growing up
I saw a staring virgin stand Where holy Dionysus died, And tear the heart out of his side… And lay the heart upon her hand And bear that beating heart away;
O what to me the little room That was brimmed up with prayer an… He bade me out into the gloom, And my breast lies upon his breast… O what to me my mother’s care,
Man IN a cleft that’s christened Alt Under broken stone I halt At the bottom of a pit That broad noon has never lit,
I walked among the seven woods of… Shan-walla, where a willow-hordere… Gathers the wild duck from the win… Shady Kyle-dortha; sunnier Kyle-n… Where many hundred squirrels are a…
Sung by the people of Faery ov… We who are old, old and gay, O so old! Thousands of years, thousands of y… If all were told:
INDIGNANT at the fumbling wits… Of our old paudeen in his shop, I… Among the stones and thorn-trees,… Until a curlew cried and in the lu… A curlew answered; and suddenly th…
WHAT sort of man is coming To lie between your feet? What matter, we are but women. Wash; make your body sweet; I have cupboards of dried fragranc…
The old priest Peter Gilligan Was weary night and day For half his flock were in their b… Or under green sods lay. Once, while he nodded in a chair