#IrishWriters
A MAN I praise that once in Tar… Said to the woman on his knees, ‘… My hundredth year is at an end.… That something is about to happen,… That the adventure of old age begi…
I– CRAZY JANE AND THE B… 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
SHE might, so noble from head To great shapely knees, The long flowing line, Have walked to the altar Through the holy images
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…
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
While I, that reed-throated whisp… Who comes at need, although not no… A clear articulation in the air, But inwardly, surmise companions Beyond the fling of the dull ass’s…
O’Driscoll drove with a song The wild duck and the drake From the tall and the tufted reeds Of the drear Hart Lake. And he saw how the reeds grew dark
Undying love to buy I wrote upon The corners of this eye All wrongs done. What payment were enough
A MAN that had six mortal wounds… Violent and famous, strode among t… Eyes stared out of the branches an… Then certain Shrouds that muttere… Came and were gone. He leant upo…
WE sat together at one summer’s e… That beautiful mild woman, your cl… And you and I, and talked of poet… I said, 'A line will take us hour… Yet if it does not seem a moment’s…
THERE’S many a strong farmer Whose heart would break in two, If he could see the townland That we are riding to; Boughs have their fruit and blosso…
The dews drop slowly and dreams ga… Suddenly hurtle before my dream-aw… And then the clash of fallen horse… Of unknown perishing armies beat a… We who still labour by the cromlec…
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…
A STATESMAN is an easy man, He tells his lies by rote; A journalist makes up his lies And takes you by the throat; So stay at home’ and drink your be…
There was a green branch hung with… When her own people ruled this tra… And from its murmuring greenness,… A Druid kindness, on all hearers… It charmed away the merchant from…
