#Irish #NobelPrize #XIXCentury #XXCentury
FIVE-AND-TWENTY years have gone Since old William Pollexfen Laid his strong bones down in death By his wife Elizabeth In the grey stone tomb he made.
COME swish around, my pretty punk, And keep me dancing still That I may stay a sober man Although I drink my fill. Sobriety is a jewel
Behold that great Plotinus swim, Buffeted by such seas; Bland Rhadamanthus beckons him, But the Golden Race looks dim, Salt blood blocks his eyes.
Although crowds gathered once if she but… And even old men’s eyes grew dim, this h… Like some last courtier at a gypsy campi… Babbling of fallen majesty, records what… The lineaments, a heart that laughter ha…
NOW that we’re almost settled in our ho… I’ll name the friends that cannot sup wi… Beside a fire of turf in the ancient tow… And having talked to some late hour Climb up the narrow winding stair to bed…
I AM worn out with dreams; A weather-worn, marble triton Among the streams; And all day long I look Upon this lady’s beauty
Whence did all that fury come? From empty tomb or Virgin womb? Saint Joseph thought the world would me… But liked the way his finger smelt.
Cumhal called out, bending his head, Till Dathi came and stood, With a blink in his eyes, at the cave-mo… Between the wind and the wood. And Cumhal said, bending his knees,
#1899 #TheWindAmongTheReeds
I dreamed as in my bed I lay, All night’s fathomless wisdom come, That I had shorn my locks away And laid them on Love’s lettered tomb: But something bore them out of sight
BECAUSE I am mad about women I am mad about the hills,’ Said that wild old wicked man Who travels where God wills. ‘Not to die on the straw at home.
Edain came out of Midhir’s hill, and la… Beside young Aengus in his tower of gla… Where time is drowned in odour-laden win… And Druid moons, and murmuring of bough… And sleepy boughs, and boughs where appl…
That lover of a night Came when he would, Went in the dawning light Whether I would or no; Men come, men go;
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…
“Would it were anything but merely voice… The No King cried who after that was K… Because he had not heard of anything That balanced with a word is more than n… Yet Old Romance being kind, let him pre…
#1910 #TheGreenHelmetAndOtherPoems
PROCESSIONS that lack high stilts h… What if my great-granddad had a pair tha… And mine were but fifteen foot, no moder… Some rogue of the world stole them to pa… Because piebald ponies, led bears, caged…
