#Irish #NobelPrize #XIXCentury #XXCentury
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,
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 Because of my dear Jack that’s dead.
I had this thought awhile ago, ‘My darling cannot understand What I have done, or what would do In this blind bitter land.’ And I grew weary of the sun
#1910 #TheGreenHelmetAndOtherPoems
SELECTED FROM THE IRISH NO… THERE was a green branch hung with man… When her own people ruled this tragic E… And from its murmuring greenness, calm o… A Druid kindness, on all hearers fell.
(For Harry Clifton) I HAVE heard that hysterical women say They are sick of the palette and fiddle-… Of poets that are always gay, For everybody knows or else should know
O sweet everlasting Voices, be still; Go to the guards of the heavenly fold And bid them wander obeying your will, Flame under flame, till Time be no more… Have you not heard that our hearts are o…
#1899 #TheWindAmongTheReeds
FOR certain minutes at the least That crafty demon and that loud beast That plague me day and night Ran out of my sight; Though I had long perned in the gyre,
Beloved, may your sleep be sound That have found it where you fed. What were all the world’s alarms To mighty paris when he found Sleep upon a golden bed
The fascination of what’s difficult Has dried the sap out of my veins, and r… Spontaneous joy and natural content Out of my heart. There’s something ails… That must, as if it had not holy blood
She hears me strike the board and say That she is under ban Of all good men and women, Being mentioned with a man That has the worst of all bad names;
Now, man of croziers, shadows called our… And then away, away, like whirling flame… And now fled by, mist-covered, without s… The youth and lady and the deer and houn… ‘Gaze no more on the phantoms,’ Niamh s…
#1889 #TheWanderingsOfOisinAndOtherPoems
We sat together at one summer’s end, That beautiful mild woman, your close fr… And you and I, and talked of poetry. I said, ‘A line will take us hours mayb… Yet if it does not seem a moment’s thoug…
#ArsPoetica
O heart, be at peace, because Nor knave nor dolt can break What’s not for their applause, Being for a woman’s sake. Enough if the work has seemed,
When you are old and grey and full of sl… And nodding by the fire, take down this… And slowly read, and dream of the soft l… Your eyes had once, and of their shadows… How many loved your moments of glad grac…
