“Love is all Unsatisfied That cannot take the whole Body and soul”; And that is what Jane said.

The heron-billed pale cattle-birds That feed on some foul parasite Of the Moroccan flocks and herds Cross the narrow Straits to light In the rich midnight of the garden trees

Ah, but Time has touched a form That could show what Homer’s age Bred to be a hero’s wage. ‘Were not all her life but storm, Would not painters paint a form

(Song from an Unfinished Play) My mother dandled me and sang, ‘How young it is, how young!’ And made a golden cradle That on a willow swung.

WHY should not old men be mad? Some have known a likely lad That had a sound fly-fisher’s wrist Turn to a drunken journalist; A girl that knew all Dante once

FATHER AND CHILD SHE hears me strike the board and say That she is under ban Of all good men and women, Being mentioned with a man

Dear Craoibhin Aoibhin, look into our c… When we are high and airy hundreds say That if we hold that flight they’ll leav… While those same hundreds mock another d… Because we have made our art of common t…

WOULD I could cast a sail on the wate… Where many a king has gone And many a king’s daughter, And alight at the comely trees and the l… The playing upon pipes and the dancing,

Through winter-time we call on spring, And through the spring on summer call, And when abounding hedges ring Declare that winter’s best of all; And after that there’s nothing good

Blessed be this place, More blessed still this tower; A bloody, arrogant power Rose out of the race Uttering, mastering it,

‘O cruel Death, give three things back,… Sang a bone upon the shore; ‘A child found all a child can lack, Whether of pleasure or of rest, Upon the abundance of my breast’: