#AustralianWriters
Sometimes I lose My power of loving for an hour or… Then I misuse My knowledge of friends’ secrets t… Them far more heartily than others…
Each day I sit in an ill-lighted… To teach a boy; For one hour by the clock great wo… Are our employ. We read St Agnes’ Eve and that m…
Old memories waken old desires Infallibly. While we’re alive With eye or ear or sense at all, Sometimes, must love revive. But we’ll not think, when some str…
She has all Ireland in her blood, All Ireland’s need of sword and t… With memories dim before the flood… And conflicts of a thousand years. No son of Italy should love
This evening I’m alone. I wish there’d be Someone to come along And talk to me. Yet out of all my friends
We climbed that hill, The road flushed red in pride At being beauty’s boundary. Eithe… Stretched beauty, beauty ever, bea… For on the left
I have three loves who are all mos… Each one has cost me many a tear. The one who is dead yet lives in m… I were too poor had I less than t…
Now I’ve been three days In the place where I am staying, I’ve taken up new ways’ Land-owning and flute playing. There’s an orchard ground
We watched the dawn breaking acros… While just above us hung the eveni… The nearer waters took a hint of w… And clouds and waves together mass… Narrowed our morning world of pall…
You who are dead, Do you know They’ve dug up half the irises That used to grow Here in the quadrangle a year ago?
When I go up to work the young bl… Has not awaked from dreams: It fades to meet the blue sky mist… It gleams. I say,
All through the day at my machine There still keeps going A strange little tune through hear… As I sit sewing: ‘There is a child in Hungary,
Maisie’s been holding down her hea… Her little red head. And her poin… Rests on her neck that slips so so… The square-cut low-necked darling… In such a way, since it’s high-wai…
I have to make a soul for one Who lost his soul in childhood’s h… And I’m not sure’not really sur… If I have power. I don’t know whether souls are mad…
I like the riders Clad in rose and blue; Their colours glitter And their horses too. Swift go the riders