SING of the O’Rahilly, Do not deny his right; Sing a 'the’ before his name; Allow that he, despite All those learned historians,

I rage at my own image in the glass, That’s so unlike myself that when you pr… It is as though you praised another, or… Mocked me with praise of my mere opposit… And when I wake towards morn I dread my…

SHE might, so noble from head To great shapely knees, The long flowing line, Have walked to the altar Through the holy images

A crazy man that found a cup, When all but dead of thirst, Hardly dared to wet his mouth Imagining, moon-accursed, That another mouthful

Autumn is over the long leaves that love… And over the mice in the barley sheaves; Yellow the leaves of the rowan above us, And yellow the wet wild-strawberry leave… The hour of the waning of love has beset…

Beloved, may your sleep be sound That have found it where you fed. What were all the world’s alarms To mighty paris when he found Sleep upon a golden bed

I went out alone To sing a song or two, My fancy on a man, And you know who. Another came in sight

I DREAMED that one had died in a str… Near no accustomed hand, And they had nailed the boards above her… The peasants of that land, Wondering to lay her in that solitude,

BECAUSE I am mad about women I am mad about the hills,’ Said that wild old wicked man Who travels where God wills. ‘Not to die on the straw at home.

i{"Though to my feathers in the wet,} i{I have stood here from break of day.} i{I have not found a thing to eat,} i{For only rubbish comes my way.} i{Am I to live on lebeen-lone?'}

POUR wine and dance if manhood still h… Bring roses if the rose be yet in bloom; The cataract smokes upon the mountain si… Our Father Rosicross is in his tomb. Pull down the blinds, bring fiddle and c…