#1910 #IrishWriters #TheGreenHelmetAndOtherPoems
Cumhal called out, bending his hea… Till Dathi came and stood, With a blink in his eyes, at the c… Between the wind and the wood. And Cumhal said, bending his knee…
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
These are the clouds about the fal… The majesty that shuts his burning… The weak lay hand on what the stro… Till that be tumbled that was lift… And discord follow upon unison,
Shepherd. That cry’s from the fir… I wished before it ceased. Goatherd. Nor bird nor beast Could make me wish for anything th… Being old, but that the old alone…
THERE is a queen in China, or m… And birthdays and holidays such pr… Of her unblemished lineaments, a w… That she might be that sprightly g… And there’s a score of duchesses,…
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…
Good Father John O’Hart In penal days rode out To a Shoneen who had free lands And his own snipe and trout. In trust took he John’s lands;
Shy one, shy one, Shy one of my heart, She moves in the firelight Pensively apart. She carries in the dishes,
Once, when midnight smote the air, Eunuchs ran through Hell and met On every crowded street to stare Upon great Juan riding by: Even like these to rail and sweat
SHE might, so noble from head To great shapely knees, The long flowing line, Have walked to the altar Through the holy images
I MADE my song a coat Covered with embroideries Out of old mythologies From heel to throat; But the fools caught it,
“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.”
He. Opinion is not worth a rush; In this altar-piece the knight, Who grips his long spear so to pus… That dragon through the fading lig… Loved the lady; and it’s plain
O what to me the little room That was brimmed up with prayer an… He bade me out into the gloom, And my breast lies upon his breast… O what to me my mother’s care,
I CRIED when the moon was mutmu… ‘Let peewit call and curlew cry wh… I long for your merry and tender a… For the roads are unending, and th… The honey-pale moon lay low on the…