#Irish #NobelPrize #XIXCentury #XXCentury #1910 #TheGreenHelmetAndOtherPoems
THE Colonel went out sailing, He spoke with Turk and Jew, With Christian and with Infidel, For all tongues he knew. 'O what’s a wifeless man?' said he,
SWEETHEART, do not love too long: I loved long and long, And grew to be out of fashion Like an old song. All through the years of our youth
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 say.
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…
The old priest Peter Gilligan Was weary night and day For half his flock were in their beds Or under green sods lay. Once, while he nodded in a chair
Autumn is over the long leaves that love… And over the mice in the barley sheaves; Yellow the leaves of the rowan above us, And yellow the wet wild-strawberry leave… The hour of the waning of love has beset…
#1889 #TheWanderingsOfOisinAndOtherPoems
I sought a theme and sought for it in va… I sought it daily for six weeks or so. Maybe at last, being but a broken man, I must be satisfied with my heart, altho… Winter and summer till old age began
Suddenly I saw the cold and rook-deligh… That seemed as though ice burned and was… And thereupon imagination and heart were… So wild that every casual thought of tha… Vanished, and left but memories, that sh…
#1910 #TheGreenHelmetAndOtherPoems
GOD guard me from those thoughts men th… In the mind alone; He that sings a lasting song Thinks in a marrow-bone; From all that makes a wise old man
Pale brows, still hands and dim hair, I had a beautiful friend And dreamed that the old despair Would end in love in the end: She looked in my heart one day
#1899 #TheWindAmongTheReeds
Behold that great Plotinus swim, Buffeted by such seas; Bland Rhadamanthus beckons him, But the Golden Race looks dim, Salt blood blocks his eyes.
Wine comes in at the mouth And love comes in at the eye; That’s all we shall know for truth Before we grow old and die. I lift the glass to my mouth,
Nor dread nor hope attend A dying animal; A man awaits his end Dreading and hoping all; Many times he died,
#1933 #TheWindingStairAndOtherPoems
I rage at my own image in the glass, That’s so unlike myself that when you pr… It is as though you praised another, or… Mocked me with praise of my mere opposit… And when I wake towards morn I dread my…
#1928 #TheTower
Half close your eyelids, loosen your hai… And dream about the great and their prid… They have spoken against you everywhere, But weigh this song with the great and t… I made it out of a mouthful of air,