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

Somewhere is music from the linnet… And thro’ the sunny flowers the be… And white bells of convolvulus on… Of quiet May make silent ringing,… Hither and thither by the wind of…

A blackbird singing On a moss-upholstered stone, Bluebells swinging, Shadows wildly blown, A song in the wood,

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

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

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…

Powdered and perfumed the full bee Winged heavily across the clover, And where the hills were dim with… Purple and blue the west leaned ov… A willow spray dipped in the strea…

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

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

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,

When I leave down this pipe my fr… And sleep with flowers I loved, a… My songs shall rise in wilding thi… Whose roots are in my heart. And here where that sweet poet sle…

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,

Quiet miles of golden sky, And in my heart a sudden flower. I want to clap my hands and cry For Beauty in her secret bower. Quiet golden miles of dawn—

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…