#IrishWriters #NobelPrize
Suddenly I saw the cold and rook-… That seemed as though ice burned a… And thereupon imagination and hear… So wild that every casual thought… Vanished, and left but memories, t…
Where had her sweetness gone? What fanatics invent In this blind bitter town, Fantasy or incident Not worth thinking of,
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
SWEETHEART, do not love too l… I loved long and long, And grew to be out of fashion Like an old song. All through the years of our youth
We should be hidden from their eye… Being but holy shows And bodies broken like a thorn Whereon the bleak north blows, To think of buried Hector
Like the moon her kindness is, If kindness I may call What has no comprehension in’t, But is the same for all As though my sorrow were a scene
“Love is all Unsatisfied That cannot take the whole Body and soul”; And that is what Jane said.
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…
Violence upon the roads: violence… Some few have handsome riders, are… On delicate sensitive ear or tossi… But wearied running round and roun… All break and vanish, and evil gat…
Your hooves have stamped at the bl… Even where horrible green parrots… My works are all stamped down into… I knew that horse-play, knew it fo… What wholesome sun has ripened is…
‘She will change,’ I cried. ‘Into a withered crone.’ The heart in my side, That so still had lain, In noble rage replied
Some may have blamed you that you… The verses that could move them on… When, the ears being deafened, the… With lightning, you went from me,… Nothing to make a song about but k…
They hold their public meetings wh… Our most renowned patriots stand, One among the birds of the air, A stumpier on either hand; And all the popular statesmen say
Hunchback. STAND up and lift yo… A man that finds great bitterness In thinking of his lost renown. A Roman Caesar is held down Under this hump.
He. Dear, I must be gone While night Shuts the eyes Of the household spies; That song announces dawn. She. No, night’s bird and love’s
