#IrishWriters
Bronze by gold heard the hoofirons… Chips, picking chips off rocky thu… Horrid! And gold flushed more. A husky fifenote blew. Blew. Blue bloom is on the.
Now, O now, in this brown land Where Love did so sweet music mak… We two shall wander, hand in hand, Forbearing for old friendship’ sak… Nor grieve because our love was ga…
By Lorries along sir John Rogers… In Westland row he halted before… So warm. His right hand once more… He turned away and sauntered acros… He handed the card through the bra…
At that hour when all things have… O lonely watcher of the skies, Do you hear the night wind and the… Of harps playing unto Love to unc… The pale gates of sunrise?
I was just passing the time of day… —Lo, Joe, says I. How are you bl… —Soot’s luck, says Joe. Who’s the… —Old Troy, says I, was in the for… —What are you doing round those pa…
Bid adieu, adieu, adieu, Bid adieu to girlish days, Happy Love is come to woo Thee and woo thy girlish ways— The zone that doth become thee fai…
Stately, plump Buck Mulligan came… —Introibo ad altare Dei. Halted, he peered down the dark wi… —Come up, Kinch! Come up, you fea… Solemnly he came forward and mount…
Be not sad because all men Prefer a lying clamour before you: Sweetheart, be at peace again— Can they dishonour you? They are sadder than all tears;
The summer evening had begun to fo… The three girl friends were seated… —Now, baby, Cissy Caffrey said.… And baby prattled after her: —A jink a jink a jawbo.
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
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! —…
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
Wind whines and whines the shingle… The crazy pierstakes groan; A senile sea numbers each single Slimesilvered stone. From whining wind and colder
Lean out of the window, Goldenhair, I hear you singing A merry air. My book was closed,
Of the dark past A child is born; With joy and grief My heart is torn. Calm in his cradle
