The Wild Swans at Coole. 1919.
#Irish #NobelPrize #XIXCentury #XXCentury
IF Michael, leader of God’s host When Heaven and Hell are met, Looked down on you from Heaven’s door-p… He would his deeds forget. Brooding no more upon God’s wars
Between extremities Man runs his course; A brand, or flaming breath. Comes to destroy All those antinomies
#1933 #TheWindingStairAndOtherPoems
Pardon, old fathers, if you still remain Somewhere in ear-shot for the story’s en… Old Dublin merchant “free of the ten an… Or trading out of Galway into Spain; Old country scholar, Robert Emmet’s fri…
Epilogue to 'A Vision’ Midnight has come, and the great Christ… And may a lesser bell sound through the… And it is All Souls’ Night, And two long glasses brimmed with muscat…
#1928 #TheTower
Sang old Tom the lunatic That sleeps under the canopy: ‘What change has put my thoughts astray And eyes that had so keen a sight? What has turned to smoking wick
My Soul. I summon to the winding ancie… Set all your mind upon the steep ascent, Upon the broken, crumbling battlement, Upon the breathless starlit air, 'Upon the star that marks the hidden pol…
I– CRAZY JANE AND THE BISHOP Bring me to the blasted oak That I, midnight upon the stroke, (All find safety in the tomb.) May call down curses on his head
A MOST astonishing thing— Seventy years have I lived; (Hurrah for the flowers of Spring, For Spring is here again.) Seventy years have I lived
Ah, that Time could touch a form That could show what Homer’s age Bred to be a hero’s wage. ‘Were not all her life but storm, Would not painters paint a form
#1910 #TheGreenHelmetAndOtherPoems
I FASTED for some forty days on bread… For passing round the bottle with girls… In country shawl or Paris cloak, had pu… And what’s the good of women, for all th… Is fol de rol de rolly O.
A man came slowly from the setting sun, To Emer, raddling raiment in her dun, And said, “I am that swineherd whom you… Go watch the road between the wood and t… But now I have no need to watch it more…
‘Your eyes that once were never weary of… Are bowed in sotrow under pendulous lids… Because our love is waning.’ And then She: ‘Although our love is waning, let us sta…
#1889 #TheWanderingsOfOisinAndOtherPoems
THAT civilisation may not sink, Its great battle lost, Quiet the dog, tether the pony To a distant post; Our master Caesar is in the tent
The island dreams under the dawn And great boughs drop tranquillity; The peahens dance on a smooth lawn, A parrot sways upon a tree, Raging at his own image in the enamelled…
The trees are in their autumn beauty, The woodland paths are dry, Under the October twilight the water Mirrors a still sky; Upon the brimming water among the stones