#IrishWriters
Well, mate, you’ve asked about a… You met to-day, in a black-and-yel… Chain-gang suit, with a peddler’… Or with some such burden, strapped… Did you meet him square? No, pass…
Only from day to day The life of a wise man runs: What matter if seasons far away Have gloom or have double suns? To climb the unreal path,
‘You gave me the key of your heart… Then why do you make me knock?’ ‘O, that was yesterday, Saints ab… And last night—I changed the lock…
WE were down in the Indian Ocean… The last six months in the tropics… Five men up on the royal yards, we… And every day like its brother,'… Nothing to break the sameness: wat…
‘WHAT bait do you use,' said a… When you fish where the souls of m… ‘Well, for special tastes,’ said t… ‘Gold and Fame are the best I’ve… ‘But for common use?’ asked the S…
LOVE is a plant with double root… And of strange, elastic power: Men’s minds are divided in naming… But a kiss is only the flower.
THERE is a shadow on the sunny w… Dark and forbidding, like a bode o… Go, drive it thence. Alas, such s… From real things, nor may be moved… There is a shadow on my heart to-d…
MY friend he was; my friend from… With childlike faith he oped to me… No door was locked on altar, grave… No weakness veiled, concealed no d… The hope, the sorrow and the wrong…
GOD makes a poet: touches soul an… And lips and heart, and sends him… His fellows hearing, own the true… And crown him daily with the love… The king a lord makes, by a parchm…
Oh! no! I would not love again E’en had I still the power given; I would not risk its pain and fear… E’en though its joys were taste of… A breath may blight the heart we p…
I do not know the meaning of the s… But bend before its power, as a re… When the black tornado fills the v… Three times in twenty years its sh… On lines of fire on the black veil…
Once in a lifetime, we may see the… Tremble and lift, that hides symbo… The Spirit’s vision, when the sen… Sweeps the weird meaning that the… Deep in the midst of turmoil, it m…
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…
I WROTE down my troubles every… And after a few short years, When I turned to the heart-aches… I read them with smiles, not tears…
WHERE shall we seek for a hero,… Our laurels are wreathed for conqu… But we honor a shrine unfinished,… If we sing the deed that was sown… Shall we take for a sign this Neg…