#IrishWriters
—Albert Parsons went to his death singing Annie Laurie; didn’t another have a rose in his coat–
Blow through me wind As you blow through apple blossoms… Scatter me in shining petals over… Joyously I reunite’¦ sway and ga… Sedately I walk by the dancing fe…
Out of the lamp—bestarred and clou… Snaring, illuding, concealing, Magically conjuring - Turning to fairy-coaches Beetle-backed limousines
I love those spirits That men stand off and point at, Or shudder and hood up their souls… Those ruined ones, Where Liberty has lodged an hour
There is music in the strong Deep-throated bush, Whisperings of song Heard in the leaves’ hush - Ballads of the trees
Warped... gland-dry... With spine askew And body shrunken into half its sp… Well-used as some cracked paving-s… Bearing on his grimed and pitted f…
Small towns Crawling out of their green shirts… Tubercular towns Coughing a little in the dawn... And the church...
We are old, Old as song. Before Rome was Or Cyrene. Mad nights knew us
Indigo bulb of darkness Punctured by needle lights Through a fissure of brick canyon… And a sliver of moon Spigoting two high windows over th…
(Easter 1916) Censored lies that mimic truth’¦ Censored truth as pale as fear’¦ My heart is like a rousing bell - And but the dead to hear’¦
Tender and tremulous green of leav… Turned up by the wind, Twanging among the vines - Wind in the grass Blowing a clear path
Out of the night you burn, Manhat… In a vesture of gold - Span of innumerable arcs, Flaring and multiplying - Gold at the uttermost circles fadi…
It is dark’¦ so dark, I remember… It is still’¦ so still, I hear t… Ten times we had watched the moon Rise like a thin white virgin out… And round into a full maternity’¦
Long vast shapes... cooled and flu… Lidless windows Glazed with a flashy luster From some little pert café chirpin… And down among iron guts
Wind rising in the alleys My spirit lifts in you like a bann… You are full of unspent dreams.... You are laden with beginnings.... There is hope in you... not sweet.…