THE GYRES! the gyres! Old Rocky Fac… Things thought too long can be no longer… For beauty dies of beauty, worth of wort… And ancient lineaments are blotted out. Irrational streams of blood are staining…

SELECTED FROM THE IRISH NO… THERE was a green branch hung with man… When her own people ruled this tragic E… And from its murmuring greenness, calm o… A Druid kindness, on all hearers fell.

SING of the O’Rahilly, Do not deny his right; Sing a 'the’ before his name; Allow that he, despite All those learned historians,

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…

‘THOUGH logic-choppers rule the town, And every man and maid and boy Has marked a distant object down, An aimless joy is a pure joy,’ Or so did Tom O’Roughley say

That lover of a night Came when he would, Went in the dawning light Whether I would or no; Men come, men go;

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

When Loie Fuller’s Chinese dancers enw… A shining web, a floating ribbon of clot… It seemed that a dragon of air Had fallen among dancers, had whirled th… Or hurried them off on its own furious p…

She hears me strike the board and say That she is under ban Of all good men and women, Being mentioned with a man That has the worst of all bad names;