#IrishWriters
The green has come to the leafless… The earth brings forth its grain; The rose has come for the honey be… You will not come again. The birds have come to the empty n…
I would I had a thousand tongues To sing thy praise, to sing thy pr… I’d teach the birds on ev’ry tree To chorus the sweet melody, For all my days, for all my days.
Cean duv deelish, beside the sea I stand and stretch my hands to th… Across the world. The riderless horses race to shore With thundering hoofs and shudderi…
I saw her many years ago, my gladn… She stood amongst the barley field… She walked upon the mountain’s sid… She planted many famine crops with… From rugged rocks and silver shore…
A spirit speeding down on All Sou… From the wide gates of that myster… Where sleep the dead, sung softly… ‘So gay a wind was never heard bef… The old man said, and listened by…
‘Going, going!’ the voice was loud… And, rising, silenced the chatteri… ‘Going! going! shall it be gone?’ The auctioneer held up an old viol… ‘The mute though tarnished is silv…
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,
This is the scene of a man’s despa… From the difficult traits of the f… A shot rang out in the night; deat… And you stood alone, a stranger, a… Coward flesh, brave soul, which wa…
A little dog disturbed my trust in… I praised most faithfully All the great things that be, Man’s pain and pleasure even; I said though hard this weighing
And so goodbye, my love, my dear,… E’en thus from my sad heart go hen… I cast thee out, renounce, and hol… I wreck the cup of joy thou heldes… To my lips, thinking we’d quaff—be…
Woe to the House of Breffni, and… Woe to us all in Erinn for the sh… And cursed be you, Dearvorgil, wh… And ruin brought to Erinn with th… It is the Prince of Breffni rides…
O the chatter, chatter, chatter, Of the things that do not matter. Little wordy things that clatter, Restless feet that pitter patter, All my pretty houses scatter,
All day I lie beneath the great p… Whose perfumed branches wave and s… I hear the groaning of its straini… As in the breeze its thin leaves m… Like frantic fingers loosened and…
Why in my neighbour’s garden Are the flowers more sweet than mi… I had never such bloom of roses, Such yellow and pink woodbine. Why in my neighbour’s garden
All on a golden morning the beggar… To gather branch and berry, the ha… And as she went a-singing, a gipsy… Beneath a bower of branches—a grey… ‘Your fortune, pretty lady, I pra…