#Irish #NobelPrize #1928 #TheTower
I went out to the hazel wood, Because a fire was in my head, And cut and peeled a hazel wand, And hooked a berry to a thread; And when white moths were on the w…
Fasten your hair with a golden pin… And bind up every wandering tress; I bade my heart build these poor r… It worked at them, day out, day in… Building a sorrowful loveliness
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…
O, curlew, cry no more in the air, Or only to the waters in the West… Because your crying brings to my m… Passion-dimmed eyes and long heavy… That was shaken out over my breast…
NOW that we’re almost settled in… I’ll name the friends that cannot… Beside a fire of turf in the ancie… And having talked to some late hou… Climb up the narrow winding stair…
ON the grey rock of Cashel the mi… Has called up the cold spirits tha… When the old moon is vanished from… And the new still hides her horn. Under blank eyes and fingers never…
ALL the words that I utter, And all the words that I write, Must spread out their wings untiri… And never rest in their flight, Till they come where your sad, sad…
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,
‘ALTHOUGH I’d lie lapped up in… A deal I’d sweat and little earn If I should live as live the neig… Cried the beggar, Billy Byrne; ‘Stretch bones till the daylight c…
Between extremities Man runs his course; A brand, or flaming breath. Comes to destroy All those antinomies
A MAN I praise that once in Tar… Said to the woman on his knees, ‘… My hundredth year is at an end.… That something is about to happen,… That the adventure of old age begi…
Sang old Tom the lunatic That sleeps under the canopy: ‘What change has put my thoughts a… And eyes that had so keen a sight? What has turned to smoking wick
Wine comes in at the mouth And love comes in at the eye; That’s all we shall know for truth Before we grow old and die. I lift the glass to my mouth,
ONE had a lovely face, And two or three had charm, But charm and face were in vain Because the mountain grass Cannot but keep the form
I walk through the long schoolroom… A kind old nun in a white hood rep… The children learn to cipher and t… To study reading-books and histori… To cut and sew, be neat in everyth…
