#Irish #NobelPrize #XIXCentury #XXCentury
It is now more than ten years since I met, for the last time, Michael Robartes, and for the first time and the last time his friends and fellow students; and witnessed his and their tra...
#IrIshWriters
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,
#1933 #TheWindingStairAndOtherPoems
(Song from an Unfinished Play) My mother dandled me and sang, ‘How young it is, how young!’ And made a golden cradle That on a willow swung.
WHEN you and my true lover meet And he plays tunes between your feet. Speak no evil of the soul, Nor think that body is the whole, For I that am his daylight lady
I know, although when looks meet I tremble to the bone, The more I leave the door unlatched The sooner love is gone, For love is but a skein unwound
ROSE of all Roses, Rose of all the Wo… The tall thought-woven sails, that flap… Above the tide of hours, trouble the air… And God’s bell buoyed to be the water’s… While hushed from fear, or loud with hop…
AND thus declared that Arab lady: ‘Last night, where under the wild moon On grassy mattress I had laid me, Within my arms great Solomon, I suddenly cried out in a strange tongue
She hears me strike the board and say That she is under ban Of all good men and women, Being mentioned with a man That has the worst of all bad names;
Scene: A circle of Druidic stones… First Fairy: Afar from our lawn and our… O sister of sorrowful gaze! Where the roses in scarlet are heavy And dream of the end of their days,
Were you but lying cold and dead, And lights were paling out of the West, You would come hither, and bend your hea… And I would lay my head on your breast; And you would murmur tender words,
#1899 #TheWindAmongTheReeds
MANY ingenious lovely things are gone That seemed sheer miracle to the multitu… protected from the circle of the moon That pitches common things about. Ther… Amid the ornamental bronze and stone
I bring you with reverent hands The books of my numberless dreams, White woman that passion has worn As the tide wears the dove-grey sands, And with heart more old than the horn
GRANDFATHER sang it under the gallo… ‘ Hear, gentlemen, ladies, and all manki… Money is good and a girl might be better… But good strong blows are delights to th… There, standing on the catt,
DO not because this day I have grown sa… Imagine that lost love, inseparable from… Because I have no other youth, can make… For how should I forget the wisdom that… The comfort that you made? Although my…
‘THOUGH logic choppers rule the town, And every man and maid and boy Has marked a distant object down, An aimless joy is a pure joy,’ Or so did Tom O’Roughley say
