#Irish #NobelPrize
REMEMBER all those renowned ge… They left their bodies to fatten t… They left their homesteads to fatt… Fled to far countries, or sheltere… In cavern, crevice, or hole,
She hears me strike the board and… That she is under ban Of all good men and women, Being mentioned with a man That has the worst of all bad name…
The angels are stooping Above your bed; They weary of trooping With the whimpering dead. God’s laughing in Heaven
A DOLL in the doll-maker’s house Looks at the cradle and bawls: ‘That is an insult to us.’ But the oldest of all the dolls, Who had seen, being kept for show,
I CALL on those that call me son… Grandson, or great-grandson, On uncles, aunts, great-uncles or… To judge what I have done. Have I, that put it into words,
Fled foam underneath us, and round… High as the Saddle-girth, coverin… And those that fled, and that foll… The immortal desire of Immortals… I mused on the chase with the Fen…
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…
I will arise and go now, and go to… And a small cabin build there, of… Nine bean-rows will I have there,… And live alone in the bee-loud gla… And I shall have some peace there…
HIS chosen comrades thought at sc… He must grow a famous man; He thought the same and lived by r… All his twenties crammed with toil… ‘What then?’ sang Plato’s ghost.…
SELECTED FROM THE IR… THERE was a green branch hung wi… When her own people ruled this tra… And from its murmuring greenness,… A Druid kindness, on all hearers…
Bid a strong ghost stand at the he… That my Michael may sleep sound, Nor cry, nor turn in the bed Till his morning meal come round; And may departing twilight keep
BEAUTIFUL lofty things: O’Le… My father upon the Abbey stage, b… ‘This Land of Saints,’ and then a… 'Of plaster Saints’; his beautifu… Standish O’Grady supporting himse…
Nor dread nor hope attend A dying animal; A man awaits his end Dreading and hoping all; Many times he died,
‘I am of Ireland, And the Holy Land of Ireland, And time runs on,’ cried she. ‘Come out of charity, Come dance with me in Ireland.’
Be you still, be you still, trembl… Remember the wisdom out of the old… Him who trembles before the flame… And the winds that blow through th… Let the starry winds and the flame…