#Irish #NobelPrize
When the flaming lute-thronged ang… When an immortal passion breathes… Our hearts endure the scourge, the… Crowded with bitter faces, the wou… The vinegar-heavy sponge, the flow…
O’Driscoll drove with a song The wild duck and the drake From the tall and the tufted reeds Of the drear Hart Lake. And he saw how the reeds grew dark
He. Dear, I must be gone While night Shuts the eyes Of the household spies; That song announces dawn. She. No, night’s bird and love’s
I THINK it better that in times… A poet’s mouth be silent, for in t… We have no gift to set a statesman… He has had enough of meddling who… A young girl in the indolence of h…
I HAD this thought a while ago, ‘My darling cannot understand What I have done, or what would d… In this blind bitter land.’ And I grew weary of the sun
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…
All things uncomely and broken, al… The cry of a child by the roadway,… The heavy steps of the ploughman,… Are wronging your image that bloss… The wrong of unshapely things is a…
A STATESMAN is an easy man, He tells his lies by rote; A journalist makes up his lies And takes you by the throat; So stay at home’ and drink your be…
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…
You waves, though you dance by my… Though you glow and you glance, th… In the Junes that were warmer tha… When I was a boy with never a cra… The herring are not in the tides a…
FOR certain minutes at the least That crafty demon and that loud be… That plague me day and night Ran out of my sight; Though I had long perned in the g…
THE Colonel went out sailing, He spoke with Turk and Jew, With Christian and with Infidel, For all tongues he knew. 'O what’s a wifeless man?' said he…
Come, let me sing into your ear; Those dancing days are gone, All that silk and satin gear; Crouch upon a stone, Wrapping that foul body up
THE girl goes dancing there On the leaf-sown, new-mown, smooth Grass plot of the garden; Escaped from bitter youth, Escaped out of her crowd,
Come praise Colonus’ horses, and… The wine-dark of the wood’s intric… The nightingale that deafens dayli… If daylight ever visit where, Unvisited by tempest or by sun,