#Irish #NobelPrize #XIXCentury #XXCentury
The woods of Arcady are dead, And over is their antique joy; Of old the world on dreaming fed; Grey Truth is now her painted toy; Yet still she turns her restless head:
#1889 #TheWanderingsOfOisinAndOtherPoems
WE have cried in our despair That men desert, For some trivial affair Or noisy, insolent sport, Beauty that we have won
HIS chosen comrades thought at school He must grow a famous man; He thought the same and lived by rule, All his twenties crammed with toil; ‘What then?’ sang Plato’s ghost. ‘What…
I CRIED when the moon was mutmuring t… ‘Let peewit call and curlew cry where th… I long for your merry and tender and pit… For the roads are unending, and there is… The honey-pale moon lay low on the sleep…
The island dreams under the dawn And great boughs drop tranquillity; The peahens dance on a smooth lawn, A parrot sways upon a tree, Raging at his own image in the enamelled…
KNOW, that I would accounted be True brother of a company That sang, to sweeten Ireland’s wrong, Ballad and story, rann and song; Nor be I any less of them,
I LIVED among great houses, Riches drove out rank, Base drove out the better blood, And mind and body shrank. No Oscar ruled the table,
There where the course is, Delight makes all of the one mind, The riders upon the galloping horses, The crowd that closes in behind: We, too, had good attendance once,
#1910 #TheGreenHelmetAndOtherPoems
ONCE, when midnight smote the air, Eunuchs ran through Hell and met On every crowded street to stare Upon great Juan riding by: Even like these to rail and sweat
I dreamed as in my bed I lay, All night’s fathomless wisdom come, That I had shorn my locks away And laid them on Love’s lettered tomb: But something bore them out of sight
YOU gave, but will not give again Until enough of paudeen’s pence By Biddy’s halfpennies have lain To be 'some sort of evidence’, Before you’ll put your guineas down,
BECAUSE we love bare hills and stunte… And were the last to choose the settled… Its boredom of the desk or of the spade,… So many years companioned by a hound, Our voices carry; and though slumber-bou…
Many ingenious lovely things are gone That seemed sheer miracle to the multitu… protected from the circle of the moon That pitches common things about. Ther… Amid the ornamental bronze and stone
#1928 #TheTower
SAY that the men of the old black tower… Though they but feed as the goatherd fee… Their money spent, their wine gone sour, Lack nothing that a soldier needs, That all are oath-bound men:
MANY ingenious lovely things are gone That seemed sheer miracle to the multitu… protected from the circle of the moon That pitches common things about. Ther… Amid the ornamental bronze and stone
