#1899 #IrishWriters #TheWindAmongTheReeds
Were you but lying cold and dead, And lights were paling out of the… You would come hither, and bend yo… And I would lay my head on your b… And you would murmur tender words,
SHE is foremost of those that I… I have gone about the house, gone… As a man does who has published a… Or a young girl dressed out in her… And though I have turned the talk…
Come play with me; Why should you run Through the shaking tree As though I’d a gun To strike you dead?
I know that I shall meet my fate Somewhere among the clouds above; Those that I fight I do not hate Those that I guard I do not love; My country is Kiltartan Cross,
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…
I AM tired of cursing the Bishop… (Said Crazy Jane) Nine books or nine hats Would not make him a man. I have found something worse
I rise in the dawn, and I kneel a… Till the seed of the fire flicker… And then I must scrub and bake an… Till stars are beginning to blink… And the young lie long and dream i…
If you, that have grown old, were… Neither catalpa tree nor scented l… Should hear my living feet, nor wo… Where we wrought that shall break… Let the new faces play what tricks…
As I came over Windy Gap They threw a halfpenny into my cap… For I am running to paradise; And all that I need do is to wish And somebody puts his hand in the…
I sat on cushioned otter-skin: My word was law from Ith to Emain… And shook at Inver Amergin The hearts of the world-troubling… And drove tumult and war away
WHEN all works that have From cradle run to grave From grave to cradle run instead; When thoughts that a fool Has wound upon a spool
The jester walked in the garden: The garden had fallen still; He bade his soul rise upward And stand on her window—sill. It rose in a straight blue garment…
There was a green branch hung with… When her own people ruled this tra… And from its murmuring greenness,… A Druid kindness, on all hearers… It charmed away the merchant from…
Laughter not time destroyed my voi… 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…
He. Opinion is not worth a rush; In this altar-piece the knight, Who grips his long spear so to pus… That dragon through the fading lig… Loved the lady; and it’s plain