#IrishWriters
‘She will change,’ I cried. ‘Into a withered crone.’ The heart in my side, That so still had lain, In noble rage replied
What they undertook to do They brought to pass; All things hang like a drop of dew Upon a blade of grass.
If this importunate heart trouble… With words lighter than air, Or hopes that in mere hoping flick… Crumple the rose in your hair; And cover your lips with odorous t…
I WOULD that we were, my belove… We tire of the flame of the meteor… And the flame of the blue star of… Has awakened in our hearts, my bel… A weariness comes from those dream…
Once more the storm is howling, an… Under this cradle—hood and coverli… My child sleeps on. There is no… But Gregory’s wood and one bare h… Whereby the haystack—and roof—leve…
I dreamed that I stood in a valle… For happy lovers passed two by two… And I dreamed my lost love came s… With her cloud-pale eyelids fallin… I cried in my dream, O women, bid…
THIS great purple butterfly, In the prison of my hands, Has a learning in his eye Not a poor fool understands. Once he lived a schoolmaster
Some may have blamed you that you… The verses that could move them on… When, the ears being deafened, the… With lightning, you went from me,… Nothing to make a song about but k…
SANG Solomon to Sheba, And kissed her dusky face, ‘All day long from mid-day We have talked in the one place, All day long from shadowless noon
Violence upon the roads: violence… Some few have handsome riders, are… On delicate sensitive ear or tossi… But wearied running round and roun… All break and vanish, and evil gat…
Hic. ON the grey sand beside the… Under your old wind-beaten tower,… A lamp burns on beside the open bo… That Michael Robartes left, you w… And though you have passed the bes…
Poets with whom I learned my trad… Companions of the Cheshire Cheese… Here’s an old story I’ve remade, Imagining 'twould better please Your cars than stories now in fash…
THE moments passed as at a play; I had the wisdom love brings forth… I had my share of mother-wit, And yet for all that I could say, And though I had her praise for i…
PROCESSIONS that lack high st… What if my great-granddad had a pa… And mine were but fifteen foot, no… Some rogue of the world stole them… Because piebald ponies, led bears,…
A CURSING rogue with a merry f… A bundle of rags upon a crutch, Stumbled upon that windy place Called Cruachan, and it was as mu… As the one sturdy leg could do