#IrishWriters
Ye old mule that think yourself so… Leave off with craft your beauty t… For it is true, without any fable, No man setteth more by riding in y… Too much travail so do your train…
What needeth these threnning words… All this cannot make me restore my… To rob your good, iwis, is not my… Nor causeless your fair hand did… Let love be judge or else whom nex…
There’s a sound of many voices in… And letters coming up in shoals to… And every boat that crosses from t… Is bringing waves of shearers for… For the shearing’s coming round, b…
The moon is bright, and the winds… Orion swings, with his belted ligh… North and south from the mountain… There’s many an eye will see no sl… There’s many a hand will toil to-n…
My galley, chargèd with forgetful… Thorough sharp seas in winter nigh… ‘Tween rock and rock; and eke mine… That is my lord, steereth with cru… And every owre a thought in readin…
Since so ye please to hear me plai… And that ye do rejoice my smart, Me list no lenger to remain To such as be so overthwart. But cursed be that cruel heart
Dustily over the highway pipes the… Wind and the rising sun, and wavin… It brings to me days gone by when… The wind is the voice of my home,… When, fresh from the desk and ledg…
The handsome and self-absorbed you… looked at the lovely and self-abso… and thrilled. The lovely and self-absorbed girl looked back at the handsome and se…
Mine own John Poynz, since ye del… The cause why that homeward I me… And flee the press of courts, wher… Rather than to live thrall under t… Of lordly looks, wrappèd within my…
Whoso list to hunt, I know where… But as for me, hélas, I may no mo… The vain travail hath wearied me s… I am of them that farthest cometh… Yet may I by no means my wearied…
Forget not yet the tried intent Of such a truth as I have meant; My great travail so gladly spent, Forget not yet. Forget not yet when first began
I abide and abide and better abide… And after the old proverb, the hap… And ever my lady to me doth say, ‘Let me alone and I will provide.… I abide and abide and tarry the ti…
My mother’s maids, when they did s… They sang sometime a song of the f… That, for because her livelood was… Would needs go seek her townish si… She thought herself endurèd too mu…
He strode across the schoolroom in… Great Hector, clanging in his bra… And all the cringing Greeks, with… Creaked into jabbering Ks and tur… Achilles, safe because he could no…
Tagus, farewell! that westward wit… Turns up the grains of gold alread… With spur and sail, for I go seek… Gainward the sun that shewth her w… And to the town which Brutus soug…