#IrishWriters
The Virgin speaks Draw back the s… O Cherubim, and Seraphim! Pull back the purple curtains of t… For I would look once more upon t… That ere my sorrows made some youn…
At Pompeii I heard a woman laugh, And turned to find the reason of h… Saw but the silent figure of a gir… That centuries had mummied into ea… The running figure of a little mai…
Last eve and through the night I… Go forth across the fields, and st… I hear it echo, and the fierce rep… Of some poor stricken heart too fa… Beside my gate a little calf, bere…
Little white rose that I loved, I… Roisin ban, Roisin ban! Fair my bud as the morning’s dawn. I kissed my beautiful flower to bl… My heart grew glad for its rich pe…
He on his man-child laid a soothin… And hushed him into slumber, singi… For thee the world was made and fo… With this thy heritage, why dost t… ’For thee the mother bird on her s…
The little red rose tapped at my w… Tapped at my window long years ago… Glad would I run then, trip to th… Who was in hiding well did I know… Last night I, nodding, heard at t…
On the lone height of some untrodd… The shadowy mother goes, Calling, calling; Grief hath her eyes, her cheek is… As winter snows
’Twas on a gloomy afternoon When all the world was out of tune… And lover’s lot amiss, When Chloe, waiting by the stream… Awoke from love’s too pleasant dre…
He was the son of a hunting squire And heir to a fair estate, And she but an humble serving maid Who opened his father’s gate. He thought her sweet as the garden…
Into my heart, Sorrow, you found… Mine enemy, it was bitter to weep… I gave you tears for drinking, And heart-sick sobs, With brain too sick for thinking,
Up the steep stair they clatter to… In whispered merriment they pierce… Of Time’s sweet mercy, who with h… Did seek in vain to stay their res… Their peeping eyes and prying fing…
There are six sorrows in my heart’… Red Allen, Clare, and Joan, Sweet Bet, and Jock, and little… Six sorrows all my own. Red Allen was my first-born son,
The Dean of Santiago on his mule Rode quick the Guadalquivir banks… He had no eye the veiling eve to l… No ear to listen for the bird’s la… Gold mist and purple of the settin…
This Consul Casement—he who heard… Of stricken people—and who in his… To lift the torture load from brok… And shield sad women from eternal… Went through lone, hot, and fevere…
I saw children playing, dancing in… Till a voice came calling, calling… With sad backward glances she went… Hoping they would miss her and so… Pettishly and pouting, ‘Tis not t…