#IrishWriters
Chicago, October 9,1871. GAUNT in the midst of the prairi… She who was once so fair; Charred and rent are her garments, Heavy and dark like cerements;
NOT on the word alone Let love depend; Neither by actions done Choose ye the friend. Let the slow years fly—
A KING once made a gallery of ar… With portraits of dead friends and… And at the end, ‘neath curtains dr… An empty marble pedestal was place… Here, every day, the king would co…
THUNDER of guns, and cries—bann… Troops have died where they stood… They have raced like waves at a wa… Dawn the fight begin, and noon was… The armies stretch afar—and the pl…
THERE is no joy all set apart fr… The opening bud has loss as well a… The brighest dewdropp gems a bendi… The rarest day has wept one little… But wholly blest the parting pain…
I often, musing, wander back to da… And far-off scenes and long-lost f… A group familiar now I see, who a… My mother, sister Jane, myself, a… I’ll tell you how I see them now.…
HER hair was a waving bronze, and… Deep wells that might cover a broo… And who, till he weighed it, could… That her heart was a cinder instea…
IN the old days, while yet the Ch… And men believed that praise of G… In curbing self as well as singing… There lived a monk, Macarius by n… A holy man, to whom the faithful c…
DIXON, a Choctaw, twenty years… Had killed a miner in a Leadville… Tried and condemned, the rough-bea… And watch him stride in freedom fr… ‘Return on Friday, to be shot to…
DEAR honored name, beloved for h… But loved and honored first that… In living proof to erring mortal e… That our poor earth is near akin t… Sweet word of dual meaning: one of…
“Come, sing a new song to her here… They cry to her sons who sing; And one sings: ‘ Mavourneen, it m… To think how the sorrows cling, Like the clouds on your mountains,…
NEVER nobler was the Senate, Never grander the debate: Rome’s old gods are on their trial By the judges of the state! Torn by warring creeds, the Fathe…
“COME to me for wisdom,' said th… In the valley and the plain There is Knowledge dimmed with so… There is Effort, with its hope li… There, the chained rebel, Passion…
NOW, for the faith that is in ye, Polander, Sclav, and Kelt! Prove to the world what the lips h… The hearts have grandly felt. Rouse, ye races in shackles!
CLEAR and bright, from the snowy… The joyous stream to the plain des… Rich sands of gold were washed and… To the turbid marsh where its pure… From stainless snow to the moor be…