#IrishWriters
Kiss the maid and pass her round, Lips like hers were made for many. Our loves are far from us to-night… But these red lips are sweet as an… Let no empty glass be seen
He will not come, and still I wai… He whistles at another gate Where angels listen. Ah I know He will not come, yet if I go How shall I know he did not pass
Had I a golden pound to spend, My love should mend and sew no mor… And I would buy her a little quer… Easy to turn on the kitchen floor. And for her windows curtains white…
He knows the safe ways and unsafe And he will lead the lambs to fold… Gathering them with his merry pipe… The gentle and the overbold. He counts them over one by one,
Now leafy winds are blowing cold, And South by West the sun goes do… A quiet huddles up the fold In sheltered corners of the brown. Like scattered fire the wild fruit…
Every night at Currabwee Little men with leather hats Mend the boots of Faery From the tough wings of the bats. So my mother told to me,
I heard the Poor Old Woman say: “At break of day the fowler came, And took my blackbirds from their… Who loved me well thro’ shame and… No more from lovely distances
I was just coming in from the gard… Or about to go fishing for eels, And, smiling, I asked you to pard… My boots very low at the heels. And I thought that you never woul…
Du aldrig vil elske? Til Stella j… en Morgen i Vaar, da jeg hos hend… mens Solen steeg over Hækken og… med Purpur i Duggen hvert skielve… Nei, svared hun, aldrig! Thi Elsk…
I called you by sweet names by woo… You answered not because my voice… And you were listening for the hou… And the long hosts of Lugh. And so, I came unto a windy heigh…
When May is here, and every morn Is dappled with pied bells, And dewdrops glance along the thor… And wings flash in the dells, I take my pipe and play a tune
Broom out the floor now, lay the f… And plant this bee-sucked bough of… And let the window down. The butt… Floats in upon the sunbeam, and th… Tanned face of June, the nomad gi…
These have more language than my s… Take them and let them speak for m… I whispered them a secret thing Down the green lanes of Allary. You shall remember quiet ways
When the clouds shake their hyssop… Like holy water falls upon the pla… ’Tis sweet to gaze upon the spring… And see your harvest born. And sweet the little breeze of mel…
Once more the lark with song and s… Cleaves through the dawn, his hurr… Fall, like the flute of Ganymede Twirling and whistling from the st… The primrose and the daffodil