#IrishWriters
Who goes amid the green wood With springtide all adorning her? Who goes amid the merry green wood To make it merrier? Who passes in the sunlight
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;
Urbane, to comfort them, the quake… —And we have, have we not, those p… He came a step a sinkapace forward… A noiseless attendant setting open… —Directly, said he, creaking to go…
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…
In the dark pine—wood I would we lay, In deep cool shadow At noon of day. How sweet to lie there,
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.
O, it was out by Donnycarney When the bat flew from tree to tre… My love and I did walk together; And sweet were the words she said… Along with us the summer wind
Martin Cunningham, first, poked h… —Come on, Simon. —After you, Mr Bloom said. Mr Dedalus covered himself quickl… Yes, yes.
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…
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?
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…
Sleep Now, O Sleep Now Sleep now, O sleep now, O you unquiet heart! A voice crying “Sleep now” Is heard in my heart.
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
Strings in the earth and air Make music sweet; Strings by the river where The willows meet. There’s music along the river
Lean out of the window, Goldenhair, I hear you singing A merry air. My book was closed,