#1899 #IrishWriters #TheWindAmongTheReeds
BELOVED, gaze in thine own hear… The holy tree is growing there; From joy the holy branches start, And all the trembling flowers they… The changing colours of its fruit
From pleasure of the bed, Dull as a worm, His rod and its butting head Limp as a worm, His spirit that has fled
Man IN a cleft that’s christened Alt Under broken stone I halt At the bottom of a pit That broad noon has never lit,
I sat on cushioned otter-skin: My word was law from Ith to Emain… And shook at Inver Amergin The hearts of the world-troubling… And drove tumult and war away
I sought a theme and sought for it… I sought it daily for six weeks or… Maybe at last, being but a broken… I must be satisfied with my heart,… Winter and summer till old age beg…
That is no country for old men. T… In one another’s arms, birds in th… —Those dying generations—at their… The salmon—falls, the mackerel—cro… Fish, flesh, or fowl, commend all…
How can I, that girl standing the… My attention fix On Roman or on Russian Or on Spanish politics? Yet here’s a travelled man that kn…
My Soul. I summon to the winding… Set all your mind upon the steep a… Upon the broken, crumbling battlem… Upon the breathless starlit air, Upon the star that marks the hidde…
‘Those Platonists are a curse,’ h… ‘God’s fire upon the wane, A diagram hung there instead, More women born than men.’
“Love is all Unsatisfied That cannot take the whole Body and soul”; And that is what Jane said.
I lived among great houses, Riches drove out rank, Base drove out the better blood, And mind and body shrank. No Oscar ruled the table,
HIS chosen comrades thought at sc… He must grow a famous man; He thought the same and lived by r… All his twenties crammed with toil… ‘What then?’ sang Plato’s ghost.…
Shakespearean fish swam the sea, f… Romantic fish swam in nets coming… What are all those fish that lie g…
SADDLE and ride, I heard a man… Out of Ben Bulben and Knocknarea… i{What says the Clock in the Grea… All those tragic characters ride But turn from Rosses’ crawling ti…
O WHAT has made that sudden nois… What on the threshold stands? It never crossed the sea because John Bull and the sea are friends… But this is not the old sea