#Irish #NobelPrize #XIXCentury #XXCentury #1933 #TheWindingStairAndOtherPoems
A storm beaten old watch-tower, A blind hermit rings the hour. All-destroying sword-blade still Carried by the wandering fool. Gold-sewn silk on the sword-blade,
Earth in beauty dressed Awaits returning spring. All true love must die, Alter at the best Into some lesser thing.
Through intricate motions ran Stream and gliding sun And all my heart seemed gay: Some stupid thing that I had done Made my attention stray.
Three Voices [together]. Hurry to… The mouths that speak, the notes a… O masters of the glittering town! O! lay the shrilly trumpet down, Though drunken with the flags that…
From pleasure of the bed, Dull as a worm, His rod and its butting head Limp as a worm, His spirit that has fled
THERE is grey in your hair. Young men no longer suddenly catch… When you are passing; But maybe some old gaffer mutters… Because it was your prayer
Shepherd. That cry’s from the fir… I wished before it ceased. Goatherd. Nor bird nor beast Could make me wish for anything th… Being old, but that the old alone…
A MAN that had six mortal wounds… Violent and famous, strode among t… Eyes stared out of the branches an… Then certain Shrouds that muttere… Came and were gone. He leant upo…
That crazed girl improvising her m… Her poetry, dancing upon the shore… Her soul in division from itself Climbing, falling She knew not wh… Hiding amid the cargo of a steamsh…
The deck of an ancient ship. At the right of the stage is the mast, with a large square sail hiding a great deal of the sky and sea on that side. The tiller is at the left of the stag...
Swift has sailed into his rest; Savage indignation there Cannot lacerate his breast. Imitate him if you dare, World-besotted traveller; he
How can I, that girl standing the… My attention fix On Roman or on Russian Or on Spanish politics? Yet here’s a travelled man that kn…
Although I can see him still, The freckled man who goes To a grey place on a hill In grey Connemara clothes At dawn to cast his flies,
SAID lady once to lover, ‘None can rely upon A love that lacks its proper food; And if your love were gone How could you sing those songs of…
Had I the heavens’ embroidered cl… Enwrought with golden and silver l… The blue and the dim and the dark… Of night and light and the half-li… I would spread the cloths under yo…
