#Irish #NobelPrize #1933 #TheWindingStairAndOtherPoems
A BLOODY and a sudden end, Gunshot or a noose, For Death who takes what man woul… Leaves what man would lose. He might have had my sister,
SWEETHEART, do not love too l… I loved long and long, And grew to be out of fashion Like an old song. All through the years of our youth
THE old brown thorn-trees break i… Under a bitter black wind that blo… Our courage breaks like an old tre… But we have hidden in our hearts t… Of Cathleen, the daughter of Houl…
WAS it the double of my dream The woman that by me lay Dreamed, or did we halve a dream Under the first cold gleam of day? I thought: ‘There is a waterfall
ROSE of all Roses, Rose of all… The tall thought-woven sails, that… Above the tide of hours, trouble t… And God’s bell buoyed to be the w… While hushed from fear, or loud wi…
PARNELL’S FUNERAL UNDER the Great Comedian’s tomb… A bundle of tempestuous cloud is b… About the sky; where that is clear… Brightness remains; a brighter sta…
The host is riding from Knocknare… And over the grave of Clooth-na-B… Caoilte tossing his burning hair, And Niamh calling Away, come away… Empty your heart of its mortal dre…
Never give all the heart, for love Will hardly seem worth thinking of To passionate women if it seem Certain, and they never dream That it fades out from kiss to kis…
HURRAH for revolution and more… A beggar upon horseback lashes a b… Hurrah for revolution and cannon c… The beggars have changed places, b…
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…
Time drops in decay, Like a candle burnt out, And the mountains and the woods Have their day, have their day; What one in the rout
All things uncomely and broken, All things worn-out and old, The cry of a child by the roadway, The creak of a lumbering cart, The heavy steps of the ploughman,
Shepherd. That cry’s from the fir… I wished before it ceased. Goatherd. Nor bird n… Could make me wish for anything th… Being old, but that the old alone…
Although crowds gathered once if s… And even old men’s eyes grew dim,… Like some last courtier at a gypsy… Babbling of fallen majesty, record… The lineaments, a heart that laugh…
