#IrishWriters
WHEN you were a lad that lacked… Oh, many’s the thing you’d see on… From Kill-o’-the-Grange to Bally… And from Cabinteely down into Bra… When you walked these roads the wh…
How strangely like a churchyard sk… The thing that’s there amongst the… A Hornets’ nest; but stir the bra… And they’ll be round your head and… So wary ana so weaponed,
‘THE blackbird’s in the briar, The seagull’s on the ground– They are nests, and they’re more t… ‘They are tokens I have found. There, where the rain-dashed briar
HERE Pilate’s Court is: None may clatter nor call Where the Wolf giving suck To the Twins glares on all ‘Strip Him and scourge Him
IN woods remote, hid in the mount… Doves there are that have a gentle… Doves that are marked as by a poet… And hence are called Doves of the… And such ye were, and we could nev…
THE great ship lantern-girdled. The tender standing by; The waning stars cloud-shrouded, The land that we descry! That pale land is our homeland,
BUT, Snake, you must not come wh… For you would tempt us; we should… ‘Oh, somewhere was a world was col… And voiceless; somewhere was a Be… Engrossed with substance, with no…
I AM sitting here Since the moon rose in the night, Kindling a fire, And striving to keep it alight; The folk of the house are lying
UP from the navel of the world, Where Cuzco has her founts of fir… The passer of the Gulf he comes. He lives in air, a bird of fire, Charted by flowers still he comes
I AM a young girl; I live here alone: I write long letters But there is no one For me to send them to. My heart
THE stir of children with fresh d… And men who meet and say unguarded… And women from the coops Of drudgeries released; And standing at their doors to wat…
THE little moths are creeping Across the cottage pane; On the floor the chickens gather, And they make talk and complain. And she sits by the fire
O men from the fields, Come gently within. Tread softly, softly O men coming in! Mavourneen is going
ALOOF from his tribe On the elm-tree’s top, A jackdaw perched A hand-reach up. Silent he sat
OVER old walls the Laburnums hang cones of fire; Laburnums that grow out of old mould in old gardens: Old maids and old men who have sav…