#IrishWriters #NobelPrize #1933 #TheWindingStairAndOtherPoems
When my arms wrap you round I pre… My heart upon the loveliness That has long faded from the world… The jewelled crowns that kings hav… In shadowy pools, when armies fled…
Edain came out of Midhir’s hill,… Beside young Aengus in his tower… Where time is drowned in odour-lad… And Druid moons, and murmuring of… And sleepy boughs, and boughs wher…
The harlot sang to the beggar-man. I meet them face to face, Conall, Cuchulain, Usna’s boys, All that most ancient race; Maeve had three in an hour, they s…
Under the Great Comedian’s tomb t… A bundle of tempestuous cloud is b… About the sky; where that is clear… Brightness remains; a brighter sta… What shudders run through all that…
THE moments passed as at a play; I had the wisdom love brings forth… I had my share of mother-wit, And yet for all that I could say, And though I had her praise for i…
Once, when midnight smote the air, Eunuchs ran through Hell and met On every crowded street to stare Upon great Juan riding by: Even like these to rail and sweat
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…
HERE at right of the entrance th… Human, superhuman, a bird’s round… Everything else withered and mummy… What great tomb-haunter sweeps the… (Something may linger there though…
PARNELL came down the road, he… 'Ireland shall get her freedom and…
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…
I SAY that Roger Casement Did what he had to do. He died upon the gallows, But that is nothing new. Afraid they might be beaten
A Dramatic Poem The deck of an ancient ship. At… with a large square sail hiding a… on that side. The tiller is at th… coming through an opening in the b…
How can I, that girl standing the… My attention fix On Roman or on Russian Or on Spanish politics? Yet here’s a travelled man that kn…
Dear Craoibhin Aoibhin, look into… When we are high and airy hundreds… That if we hold that flight they’l… While those same hundreds mock ano… Because we have made our art of co…
‘Those Platonists are a curse,’ h… ‘God’s fire upon the wane, A diagram hung there instead, More women born than men.’
