I MADE my song a coat Covered with embroideries Out of old mythologies From heel to throat; But the fools caught it,

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.…

THREE old hermits took the air By a cold and desolate sea, First was muttering a prayer, Second rummaged for a flea; On a windy stone, the third,

HOW came this ranger Now sunk in rest, Stranger with strangcr. On my cold breast? What’s left to Sigh for?

We, who seven years ago Talked of honour and of truth, Shriek with pleasure if we show The weasel’s twist, the weasel’s t…

WE sat together at one summer’s e… 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…

The heron-billed pale cattle-birds That feed on some foul parasite Of the Moroccan flocks and herds Cross the narrow Straits to light In the rich midnight of the garden…

On Cruachan’s plain slept he That must sing in a rhyme What most could shake his soul: ‘The stallion Eternity Mounted the mare of Time,

ROSE of all Roses, Rose of all… The tall thought-woven sails, that… Above the tide of hours, trouble t… And God’s bell buoyed to be the w… While hushed from fear, or loud wi…

COME play with me; Why should you run Through the shaking tree As though I’d a gun To strike you dead?

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