#1910 #IrishWriters #TheGreenHelmetAndOtherPoems
WOULD I could cast a sail on th… Where many a king has gone And many a king’s daughter, And alight at the comely trees and… The playing upon pipes and the dan…
That crazed girl improvising her m… Her poetry, dancing upon the shore… Her soul in division from itself Climbing, falling She knew not wh… Hiding amid the cargo of a steamsh…
III Slim adolescence that a nymph has… Peleus on Thetis stares. Her limbs are delicate as an eyeli… Love has blinded him with tears;
A storm beaten old watch-tower, A blind hermit rings the hour. All-destroying sword-blade still Carried by the wandering fool. Gold-sewn silk on the sword-blade,
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…
I care not what the sailors say: All those dreadful thunder-stones, All that storm that blots the day Can but show that Heaven yawns; Great Europa played the fool
SING of the O’Rahilly, Do not deny his right; Sing a 'the’ before his name; Allow that he, despite All those learned historians,
FASTEN your hair with a golden… And bind up every wandering tress; I bade my heart build these poor r… It worked at them, day out, day in… Building a sorrowful loveliness
WHAT sort of man is coming To lie between your feet? What matter, we are but women. Wash; make your body sweet; I have cupboards of dried fragranc…
Be you still, be you still, trembl… Remember the wisdom out of the old… Him who trembles before the flame… And the winds that blow through th… Let the starry winds and the flame…
Beloved, may your sleep be sound That have found it where you fed. What were all the world’s alarms To mighty paris when he found Sleep upon a golden bed
A mermaid found a swimming lad, Picked him for her own, Pressed her body to his body, Laughed; and plunging down Forgot in cruel happiness
The woods of Arcady are dead, And over is their antique joy; Of old the world on dreaming fed; Grey Truth is now her painted toy… Yet still she turns her restless h…
HANDS, do what you’re bid; Bring the balloon of the mind That bellies and drags in the wind Into its narrow shed.
Where, where but here have pride a… That long to give themselves for w… To shake their wicked sides at you… Restraining reckless middle-age?