#IrishWriters
Have you heard of one Humpty Dump… How he fell with a roll and a rumb… And curled up like Lord Olofa Cr… By the butt of the Magazine Wall, (Chorus) Of the Magazine Wall,
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! —…
Mr Leopold Bloom ate with relish… Kidneys were in his mind as he mov… The coals were reddening. Another slice of bread and butter:… —Mkgnao!
I would in that sweet bosom be (O sweet it is and fair it is!) Where no rude wind might visit me. Because of sad austerities I would in that sweet bosom be.
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…
Martin Cunningham, first, poked h… —Come on, Simon. —After you, Mr Bloom said. Mr Dedalus covered himself quickl… Yes, yes.
Rain on Rahoon falls softly, soft… Where my dark lover lies. Sad is his voice that calls me, sa… At grey moonrise. Love, hear thou
The twilight turns from amethyst To deep and deeper blue, The lamp fills with a pale green g… The trees of the avenue. The old piano plays an air,
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…
From dewy dreams, my soul, arise, From love’s deep slumber and from… For lo! the treees are full of sig… Whose leaves the morn admonisheth. Eastward the gradual dawn prevails
Strings in the earth and air Make music sweet; Strings by the river where The willows meet. There’s music along the river
Though I thy Mithridates were, Framed to defy the poison—dart, Yet must thou fold me unaware To know the rapture of thy heart, And I but render and confess
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
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…
O Sweetheart, hear you Your lover’s tale; A man shall have sorrow When friends him fail. For he shall know then