#1910 #IrishWriters #TheGreenHelmetAndOtherPoems
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
I will arise and go now, and go to… And a small cabin build there, of… Nine bean-rows will I have there,… And live alone in the bee-loud gla… And I shall have some peace there…
My Soul. I summon to the winding… Set all your mind upon the steep a… Upon the broken, crumbling battlem… Upon the breathless starlit air, 'Upon the star that marks the hidd…
I sing what was lost and dread wha… I walk in a battle fought over aga… My king a lost king, and lost sold… Feet to the Rising and Setting ma… They always beat on the same small…
‘She will change,’ I cried. ‘Into a withered crone.’ The heart in my side, That so still had lain, In noble rage replied
She hears me strike the board and… That she is under ban Of all good men and women, Being mentioned with a man That has the worst of all bad name…
MAY God be praised for woman That gives up all her mind, A man may find in no man A friendship of her kind That covers all he has brought
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
Fled foam underneath us, and round… High as the Saddle-girth, coverin… And those that fled, and that foll… The immortal desire of Immortals… I mused on the chase with the Fen…
A man came slowly from the setting… To Emer, raddling raiment in her… And said, “I am that swineherd wh… Go watch the road between the wood… But now I have no need to watch i…
We that have done and thought, That have thought and done, Must ramble, and thin out Like milk spilt on a stone.
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…
“Love is all Unsatisfied That cannot take the whole Body and soul”; And that is what Jane said.
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…
STRETCH towards the moonless mi… As though that hand could reach to… And they but famous old upholsteri… Delightful to the touch; tighten t… As though to draw them closer yet.