#Irish #NobelPrize #XIXCentury #XXCentury #1933 #TheWindingStairAndOtherPoems
POETRY, music, I have loved, and yet Because of those new dead That come into my soul and escape Confusion of the bed, Or those begotten or unbegotten
Undying love to buy I wrote upon The corners of this eye All wrongs done. What payment were enough
Though leaves are many, the root is one; Through all the lying days of my youth I swayed my leaves and flowers in the su… Now I may wither into the truth.
#1910 #TheGreenHelmetAndOtherPoems
Hidden by old age awhile In masker’s cloak and hood, Each hating what the other loved, Face to face we stood: ‘That I have met with such,’ said he,
While I wrought out these fitful Danaan… My heart would brim with dreams about th… When we bent down above the fading coals And talked of the dark folk who live in… Of passionate men, like bats in the dead…
SADDLE and ride, I heard a man say, Out of Ben Bulben and Knocknarea, i{What says the Clock in the Great Clo… All those tragic characters ride But turn from Rosses’ crawling tide,
GOD guard me from those thoughts men th… In the mind alone; He that sings a lasting song Thinks in a marrow-bone; From all that makes a wise old man
Scene: A house made of logs. There are two windows at the back and a door which cuts off one of the corners of the room. Through the door one can see low rocks which make the ground out...
FASTEN your hair with a golden pin, And bind up every wandering tress; I bade my heart build these poor rhymes: It worked at them, day out, day in, Building a sorrowful loveliness
The host is riding from Knocknarea And over the grave of Clooth-na-Bare; Caoilte tossing his burning hair, And Niamh calling Away, come away: Empty your heart of its mortal dream.
#1899 #TheWindAmongTheReeds
Your hooves have stamped at the black ma… Even where horrible green parrots call a… My works are all stamped down into the s… I knew that horse-play, knew it for a mu… What wholesome sun has ripened is wholes…
#1928 #TheTower
SHE is foremost of those that I would… I have gone about the house, gone up and… As a man does who has published a new bo… Or a young girl dressed out in her new g… And though I have turned the talk by ho…
AROUND me the images of thirty years: An ambush; pilgrims at the water-side; Casement upon trial, half hidden by the… Guarded; Griffith staring in hysterical… Kevin O’Higgins’ countenance that wears
The Danaan children laugh, in cradles o… And clap their hands together, and half… For they will ride the North when the g… With heavy whitening wings, and a heart… I kiss my wailing child and press it to…
THREE old hermits took the air By a cold and desolate sea, First was muttering a prayer, Second rummaged for a flea; On a windy stone, the third,
