#IrishWriters
AND that was when the chevaldour Through the whole of night Sang, for the moon of mid-July Made the hillside bright. Morfydd to David ap Gwillam spoke
First Old Man He threw his crutched stick down:… Into his face the anger flame, And he spoke viciously of one Who thwarted him—his son’s son.
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!
I AM the Toy-maker; I have broug… As much in my plack as should fetc… I’ll array for you now my stock of… And man’s the raree will show you. Here’s a horse that is rearing to…
I KNOW you, Crane: I, too, have waited, Waited until my heart Melted to little pools around my f… Comer in the morning ere the crows…
FOUL-FEATHERED and scald-nec… They sit in evil state; Raw marks upon their breasts As on men’s wearing chains. Impure, though they may plunge
You would not slumber If laid at my breast: You would not slumber. The river-flood beats The swan from her nest:
In The Farmer’s House I’M glad to lie on a sack of leav… By a wasted fire and take my ease. For the wind would strip me bare a… The wind would blow oul’ age upon…
MAVOURNEEN, we’ll go far away From the net of the crooked town Where they grudge us the light of… Around my neck you will lay Two tight little arms of brown.
You stay for a while beside me wit… Though your light limbs are as lim… Brow fair and young and tender whe… Hair bright as the breast of the e… In the space of a broken castle I…
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…
You had the prose of logic and of… And words to sledge an iron argume… And yet you could draw down the ou… To perch beside the ravens of your… The dreams whereby a people challe…
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. THE PARROT AND THE F… MY Afghan poet-friend With this made his message end, ‘The scroll around my wall shows t… The parrot and falcon they
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,