#1899 #IrishWriters #TheWindAmongTheReeds
A MAN that had six mortal wounds… Violent and famous, strode among t… Eyes stared out of the branches an… Then certain Shrouds that muttere… Came and were gone. He leant upo…
“Put off that mask of burning gold With emerald eyes.” “O no, my dear, you make so bold To find if hearts be wild and wise… And yet not cold.”
IF you have revisited the town, t… Whether to look upon your monument (I wonder if the builder has been… Or happier-thoughted when the day… To drink of that salt breath out o…
The angels are stooping Above your bed; They weary of trooping With the whimpering dead. God’s laughing in Heaven
FOR one throb of the artery, While on that old grey stone I Sa… Under the old wind-broken tree, I knew that One is animate, Mankind inanimate fantasy’.
MAY God be praised for woman That gives up all her mind, A man may find in no man A friendship of her kind That covers all he has brought
III Slim adolescence that a nymph has… Peleus on Thetis stares. Her limbs are delicate as an eyeli… Love has blinded him with tears;
I bring you with reverent hands The books of my numberless dreams, White woman that passion has worn As the tide wears the dove-grey sa… And with heart more old than the h…
‘Those Platonists are a curse,’ h… ‘God’s fire upon the wane, A diagram hung there instead, More women born than men.’
A crazy man that found a cup, When all but dead of thirst, Hardly dared to wet his mouth Imagining, moon-accursed, That another mouthful
Blessed be this place, More blessed still this tower; A bloody, arrogant power Rose out of the race Uttering, mastering it,
Bid a strong ghost stand at the he… That my Michael may sleep sound, Nor cry, nor turn in the bed Till his morning meal come round; And may departing twilight keep
I have met them at close of day Coming with vivid faces From counter or desk among grey Eighteenth-century houses. I have passed with a nod of the he…
The heron-billed pale cattle-birds That feed on some foul parasite Of the Moroccan flocks and herds Cross the narrow Straits to light In the rich midnight of the garden…
I HAD this thought a while ago, ‘My darling cannot understand What I have done, or what would d… In this blind bitter land.’ And I grew weary of the sun