#Irish #NobelPrize #XIXCentury #XXCentury #1889 #TheWanderingsOfOisinAndOtherPoems
BECAUSE there is safety in deri… I talked about an apparition, I took no trouble to convince, Or seem plausible to a man of sens… Distrustful of thar popular eye
Edain came out of Midhir’s hill,… Beside young Aengus in his tower… Where time is drowned in odour-lad… And Druid moons, and murmuring of… And sleepy boughs, and boughs wher…
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…
NOW all the truth is out, Be secret and take defeat From any brazen throat, For how can you compete, Being honour bred, with one
Crazed through much child-bearing The moon is staggering in the sky; Moon-struck by the despairing Glances of her wandering eye We grope, and grope in vain,
Scene: A circle of Druidic sto… First Fairy: Afar from our lawn a… O sister of sorrowful gaze! Where the roses in scarlet are hea… And dream of the end of their days…
Come praise Colonus’ horses, and… The wine-dark of the wood’s intric… The nightingale that deafens dayli… If daylight ever visit where, Unvisited by tempest or by sun,
They hold their public meetings wh… Our most renowned patriots stand, One among the birds of the air, A stumpier on either hand; And all the popular statesmen say
A certain poet in outlandish cloth… Gathered a crowd in some Byzantin… Talked1 of his country and its peo… To some stringed instrument none t… A wall behind his back, over his h…
I HEARD the old, old men say, ‘Everything alters, And one by one we drop away.’ They had hands like claws, and the… Were twisted like the old thorn-tr…
Good Father John O’Hart In penal days rode out To a Shoneen who had free lands And his own snipe and trout. In trust took he John’s lands;
COME play with me; Why should you run Through the shaking tree As though I’d a gun To strike you dead?
I met the Bishop on the road And much said he and I. ‘Those breasts are flat and fallen… Those veins must soon be dry; Live in a heavenly mansion,
SADDLE and ride, I heard a man… Out of Ben Bulben and Knocknarea… i{What says the Clock in the Grea… All those tragic characters ride But turn from Rosses’ crawling ti…
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