#IrishWriters
Not yet hast Thou sounded Thy clangorous music, Whose strings are under the mounta… Not yet hast Thou spoken The blooded, implacable Word...
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…
I have a dream to fill the golden sheath of a remembered day.... (Air heavy and massed and blue
When Art goes bounding, lean, Up hill-tops fired green To pluck a rose for life. Life like a broody hen Cluck-clucks him back again.
In a little Hungarian cafe Men and women are drinking Yellow wine in tall goblets. Through the milky haze of the smok… The fiddler, under-sized, blond,
What of the silence of the keys And silvery hands? The iron sings… Though bows lie broken on the stri… The fly-wheels turn eternally’¦ Bring fuel - drive the fires high’…
Can you see me, Sasha? I can see you.... A tentacle of the vast dawn is res… that floats as though detached in a sultry and greenish vapor.
Rock-a-by baby, woolly and brown’… (There’s a shout at the door an’ a… Lil’ coon baby, mammy is down’¦ Han’s that hold yuh are steady an’… Look piccaninny - such a gran’ bla…
The earth is motionless And poised in space ... A great bird resting in its flight Between the alleys of the stars. It is the wind’s hour off ...
Out of fiery contacts ... Rushing auras of steel Touching and whirled apart ... Out of the charged phallases Of iron leaping
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.…
I remember The crackle of the palm trees Over the mooned white roofs of the… The shining town’¦ And the tender fumbling of the sur…
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…
Oh, God did cunningly, there at B… Not mere tongues dividing, but sou… So that never again should men be… To fashion one infinite, towering…
(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’¦
