He shall not hear the bittern cry In the wild sky, where he is lain, Nor voices of the sweeter birds, Above the wailing of the rain. Nor shall he know when loud March…

Una Bawn, the days are long, And the seas I cross are wide, I must go when Ireland needs, And you must bide. And should I not return to you

My mind is not my mind, therefore I take no heed of what men say, I lived ten thousand years before God cursed the town of Nineveh. The Present is a dream I see

Because you have no fear to mingle Wings with those of greater part, So like me, with song I single Your sweet impudence of heart. And when prouder feathers go where

I walk the old frequented ways That wind around the tangled braes… I live again the sunny days Ere I the city knew. And scenes of old again are born,

Green ripples singing down the cor… With blossoms dumb the path I tre… And in the music of the morn One with wild roses on her head. Now the green ripples turn to gold

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

We have fought so much for the nat… In the tents we helped to divide; Shall the cause of our common fath… On our earthstones lie denied? For the price of a field we have w…

Then in the lull of midnight, gent… Lifted him slowly down the slopes… Lest he should hear again the mad… Of battle, dying moans, and painfu… And where the earth was soft for f…

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…

God made my mother on an April da… From sorrow and the mist along the… Lost birds’ and wanderers’ songs a… And the moon loved her wandering j… Beside the ocean’s din she combed…

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

All the dead kings came to me At Rosnaree, where I was dreaming… A few stars glimmered through the… And down the thorn the dews were s… And every dead king had a story

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…

Lady fair, have we not met In our lives elsewhere? Darkling in my mind to-night Faint fair faces dare Memory’s old unfaithfulness