#IrishWriters
Preparatory to anything else Mr B… This was a quandary but, bringing… En route to his taciturn and, not… —And that one was Judas, Stephen… Discussing these and kindred topic…
Of that so sweet imprisonment My soul, dearest, is fain —— Soft arms that woo me to relent And woo me to detain. Ah, could they ever hold me there
My love is in a light attire Among the apple trees, Where the gay winds do most desire To run in companies. There, where the gay winds stay to…
They mouth love’s language. Gnash The thirteen teeth Your lean jaws grin with. Lash Your itch and quailing, nude greed… Love’s breath in you is stale, wor…
Because your voice was at my side I gave him pain, Because within my hand I held Your hand again. There is no word nor any sign
A onelegged sailor, swinging himse… —Very well, indeed, father. And y… Father Conmee was wonderfully wel… Father Conmee was very glad to se… —Good afternoon, Mrs Sheehy.
This heart that flutters near my h… My hope and all my riches is, Unhappy when we draw apart And happy between kiss and kiss: My hope and all my riches ——yes! —…
Again! Come, give, yield all your stre… From far a low word breathes on th… Its cruel calm, submission’s miser… Gentling her awe as to a soul pred…
I hear an army charging upon the l… And the thunder of horses plunging… Arrogant, in black armour, behind… Disdaining the reins, with flutter… They cry unto the night their batt…
THE CALLS: Wait, my love, and I’ll be with y… THE ANSWERS: Round behind the stable. THE CHILDREN:
My dove, my beautiful one, Arise, arise! The night-dew lies Upon my lips and eyes. The odorous winds are weaving
YES because he never did a thing… theyre all so different Boylan tal… yes I think he made them a bit fir… frseeeeeeeefronnnng train somewher… Mulveys was the first when I was…
Before Nelson’s pillar trams slow… —Rathgar and Terenure! —Come on, Sandymount Green! Right and left parallel clanging r… —Start, Palmerston Park!
Dear heart, why will you use me so… Dear eyes that gently me upbraid, Still are you beautiful – but O, How is your beauty raimented! Through the clear mirror of your e…
All day I hear the noise of water… Making moan, Sad as the sea—bird is when, going Forth alone, He hears the winds cry to the wate…