#Irish
THE smith who made the manacles, With bar and bolt, and link and ri… Sang out above his hearty blows ‘I can’t have grief for everything… As Roger by the rope-walk went
OTHERS have divers paints and e… Lavish and bright on breast and wi… You, Guatemalan, have sunken all… Into glory of greenness! There may be palms as greenly resp…
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,
‘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
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…
My young love said to me: My moth… And my father won’t slight you for… She put her arms ‘round me; these… It will not be long, love, ’til ou… Then she stepped away from me, and…
You would not slumber If laid at my breast: You would not slumber. The river-flood beats The swan from her nest:
ONE day you’ll come to my husband… Dermoit Donn MacMorna, One day you’ll come to Hugh’s dar… And the pain at my heart will be n… Dermott Donn MacMorna!
‘BELOW there are white-faced thr… Their march is a tide coming High… Below there are white-faced throng… Their faith is a banner flung high… Below there are white-faced throng…
THE Wild Ass lounges, legs struc… In vagrom unconcern: The tombs o Achaemenian kings Are for those hooves to spurn. And all of rugged Tartary
O, to have a little house! To own the hearth and stool and al… The heaped up sods against the fir… The pile of turf against the wall! To have a clock with weights and c…
IT’S my fear that my wake won’t b… Nor my wake house a silent place: For who would keep back the hundre… Who would touch my breast and my f… For the good men were always my fr…
I THINK some saint of Eirinn wa… Found you and brought you here De… For so I greet you in this alien… And like those maidens who were on… In their own land as daughters of…
A gaunt built woman and her son-in… A broad-faced fellow, with such fl… Nothing but easy nature—and his wi… The woman’s daughter, who spills a… Out of a wide mouth, but who has e…
IN companies or lone They bend their heads, their hands They busy with their gear, Accomplishing the stitch That turns the stocking-heel,