I have met them at close of day Coming with vivid faces From counter or desk among grey Eighteenth-century houses. I have passed with a nod of the head

I saw a staring virgin stand Where holy Dionysus died, And tear the heart out of his side. And lay the heart upon her hand And bear that beating heart away;

WHAT’S riches to him That has made a great peacock With the pride of his eye? The wind-beaten, stone-grey, And desolate Three Rock

Laughter not time destroyed my voice And put that crack in it, And when the moon’s pot-bellied I get a laughing fit, For that old Madge comes down the lane,

INDIGNANT at the fumbling wits, the… Of our old paudeen in his shop, I stumb… Among the stones and thorn-trees, under… Until a curlew cried and in the luminous… A curlew answered; and suddenly thereupo…

In tombs of gold and lapis lazuli Bodies of holy men and women exude Miraculous oil, odour of violet. But under heavy loads of trampled clay Lie bodies of the vampires full of blood…

LOCKE sank into a swoon; The Garden died; God took the spinning-jenny Out of his side. Where got I that truth?

O THOUGHT, fly to her when the end o… Awakens an old memory, and say, ‘Your strength, that is so lofty and fie… It might call up a new age, calling to m… The queens that were imagined long ago,

I went out alone To sing a song or two, My fancy on a man, And you know who. Another came in sight

HERE at right of the entrance this bro… Human, superhuman, a bird’s round eye, Everything else withered and mummy-dead. What great tomb-haunter sweeps the dista… (Something may linger there though all e…

Your hooves have stamped at the black ma… Even where horrible green parrots call a… My works are all stamped down into the s… I knew that horse-play, knew it for a mu… What wholesome sun has ripened is wholes…

A certain poet in outlandish clothes Gathered a crowd in some Byzantine lane… Talked1 of his country and its people, s… To some stringed instrument none there h… A wall behind his back, over his head

THE Roaring Tinker if you like, But Mannion is my name, And I beat up the common sort And think it is no shame. The common breeds the common,

Much did I rage when young, Being by the world oppressed, But now with flattering tongue It speeds the parting guest.