Swift has sailed into his rest; Savage indignation there Cannot lacerate his breast. Imitate him if you dare, World-besotted traveller; he

KNOW, that I would accounted be True brother of a company That sang, to sweeten Ireland’s wrong, Ballad and story, rann and song; Nor be I any less of them,

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…

A SPECKLED cat and a tame hare Eat at my hearthstone And sleep there; And both look up to me alone For learning and defence

Laughter not time destroyed my voice And put that crack in it, And when the moon’s pot-bellied I get a laughing fit, For that old Madge comes down the lane,

‘I am of Ireland, And the Holy Land of Ireland, And time runs on,’ cried she. ‘Come out of charity, Come dance with me in Ireland.’

I care not what the sailors say: All those dreadful thunder-stones, All that storm that blots the day Can but show that Heaven yawns; Great Europa played the fool

I MADE my song a coat Covered with embroideries Out of old mythologies From heel to throat; But the fools caught it,

‘THOUGH logic-choppers rule the town, And every man and maid and boy Has marked a distant object down, An aimless joy is a pure joy,’ Or so did Tom O’Roughley say

SWEETHEART, do not love too long: I loved long and long, And grew to be out of fashion Like an old song. All through the years of our youth

Although crowds gathered once if she but… And even old men’s eyes grew dim, this h… Like some last courtier at a gypsy campi… Babbling of fallen majesty, records what… The lineaments, a heart that laughter ha…