#IrishWriters #NobelPrize
I CRIED when the moon was mutmu… ‘Let peewit call and curlew cry wh… I long for your merry and tender a… For the roads are unending, and th… The honey-pale moon lay low on the…
A little Indian temple in the Gol… that the forest. Anashuya, the you… temple. Anashuya. Send peace on all the l… O, may tranquillity walk by his el…
We sat together at one summer’s en… 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…
Where has Maid Quiet gone to, Nodding her russet hood? The winds that awakened the stars Are blowing through my blood. O how could I be so calm
‘CALL down the hawk from the air… Let him be hooded or caged Till the yellow eye has grown mild… For larder and spit are bare, The old cook enraged,
I admit the briar Entangled in my hair Did not injure me; My blenching and trembling, Nothing but dissembling,
WHAT woman hugs her infant there… Another star has shot an ear. What made the drapery glisten so? Not a man but Delacroix. What made the ceiling waterproof?
What lively lad most pleasured me Of all that with me lay? I answer that I gave my soul And loved in misery, But had great pleasure with a lad
I walked among the seven woods of… Shan-walla, where a willow-hordere… Gathers the wild duck from the win… Shady Kyle-dortha; sunnier Kyle-n… Where many hundred squirrels are a…
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…
If this importunate heart trouble… With words lighter than air, Or hopes that in mere hoping flick… Crumple the rose in your hair; And cover your lips with odorous t…
FATHER AND CHILD SHE hears me strike the board and… That she is under ban Of all good men and women, Being mentioned with a man
Scene: A house made of logs. There are two windows at the back and a door which cuts off one of the corners of the room. Through the door one can see low rocks which make the ground out...
‘WHAT have I earned for all that… ‘For all that I have done at my o… The daily spite of this unmannerly… Where who has served the most is m… The reputation of his lifetime los…
(Song from an Unfinished Play) My mother dandled me and sang, ‘How young it is, how young!’ And made a golden cradle That on a willow swung.