#Irish #NobelPrize
A certain poet in outlandish cloth… Gathered a crowd in some Byzantin… Talked1 of his country and its peo… To some stringed instrument none t… A wall behind his back, over his h…
Had I the heavens’ embroidered cl… Enwrought with golden and silver l… The blue and the dim and the dark… Of night and light and the half-li… I would spread the cloths under yo…
It is now more than ten years since I met, for the last time, Michael Robartes, and for the first time and the last time his friends and fellow students; and witnessed his and their tra...
A moonlight moor. Fairies lead… Male Fairies: Do not fear us, ear… We will lead you hand in hand By the willows in the glade, By the gorse on the high land,
A strange thing surely that my hea… Upon the Norman upland or in that… Should find no burden but itself a… It could not bear that burden and… The south wind brought it longing,…
O THOUGHT, fly to her when the… Awakens an old memory, and say, ‘Your strength, that is so lofty a… It might call up a new age, callin… The queens that were imagined long…
Fergus. This whole day have I fol… And you have changed and flowed fr… First as a raven on whose ancient… Scarcely a feather lingered, then… A weasel moving on from stone to s…
LOCKE sank into a swoon; The Garden died; God took the spinning-jenny Out of his side. Where got I that truth?
I HAVE heard the pigeons of the… Make their faint thunder, and the… Hum in the lime-tree flowers; and… The unavailing outcries and the ol… That empty the heart. I have forg…
PARNELL came down the road, he… 'Ireland shall get her freedom and…
Much did I rage when young, Being by the world oppressed, But now with flattering tongue It speeds the parting guest.
Things out of perfection sail, And all their swelling canvas wear… Nor shall the self-begotten fail Though fantastic men suppose Building-yard and stormy shore,
THE Roaring Tinker if you like, But Mannion is my name, And I beat up the common sort And think it is no shame. The common breeds the common,
Fled foam underneath us, and round… High as the Saddle-girth, coverin… And those that fled, and that foll… The immortal desire of Immortals… I mused on the chase with the Fen…
Bolt and bar the shutter, For the foul winds blow: Our minds are at their best this n… And I seem to know That everything outside us is