#Irish #NobelPrize #XIXCentury #XXCentury #1910 #TheGreenHelmetAndOtherPoems
The harlot sang to the beggar-man. I meet them face to face, Conall, Cuchulain, Usna’s boys, All that most ancient race; Maeve had three in an hour, they say.
A MAN I praise that once in Tara’s Ha… Said to the woman on his knees, ‘Lie st… My hundredth year is at an end. I thin… That something is about to happen, I th… That the adventure of old age begins.
Bring me to the blasted oak That I, midnight upon the stroke, (All find safety in the tomb.) May call down curses on his head Because of my dear Jack that’s dead.
These are the clouds about the fallen su… The majesty that shuts his burning eye: The weak lay hand on what the strong has… Till that be tumbled that was lifted hig… And discord follow upon unison,
#1910 #TheGreenHelmetAndOtherPoems
A Dramatic Poem The deck of an ancient ship. At the ri… with a large square sail hiding a great… on that side. The tiller is at the left… coming through an opening in the bulwark…
We should be hidden from their eyes, Being but holy shows And bodies broken like a thorn Whereon the bleak north blows, To think of buried Hector
#1928 #TheTower
We, who seven years ago Talked of honour and of truth, Shriek with pleasure if we show The weasel’s twist, the weasel’s tooth.
While I, that reed-throated whisperer Who comes at need, although not now as o… A clear articulation in the air, But inwardly, surmise companions Beyond the fling of the dull ass’s hoof
Ribb at the Tomb of Baile and Aillinn BECAUSE you have found me in the pitc… With open book you ask me what I do. Mark and digest my tale, carry it afar To those that never saw this tonsured he…
THERE is grey in your hair. Young men no longer suddenly catch their… When you are passing; But maybe some old gaffer mutters a bles… Because it was your prayer
If any man drew near When I was young, I thought, ‘He holds her dear,’ And shook with hate and fear. But O! ‘twas bitter wrong
BALD heads forgetful of their sins, Old, learned, respectable bald heads Edit and annotate the lines That young men, tossing on their beds, Rhymed out in love’s despair
He. Opinion is not worth a rush; In this altar-piece the knight, Who grips his long spear so to push That dragon through the fading light, Loved the lady; and it’s plain
NOW as at all times I can see in the m… In their stiff, painted clothes, the pal… Appear and disappear in the blue depth o… With all their ancient faces like rain-b… And all their helms of silver hovering s…
Behold that great Plotinus swim, Buffeted by such seas; Bland Rhadamanthus beckons him, But the Golden Race looks dim, Salt blood blocks his eyes.