#1899 #IrishWriters #TheWindAmongTheReeds
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
If any man drew near When I was young, I thought, ‘He holds her dear,’ And shook with hate and fear. But O! ‘twas bitter wrong
While I wrought out these fitful… My heart would brim with dreams ab… When we bent down above the fading… And talked of the dark folk who li… Of passionate men, like bats in th…
From pleasure of the bed, Dull as a worm, His rod and its butting head Limp as a worm, His spirit that has fled
There was a man whom Sorrow named… And he, of his high comrade Sorro… Went walking with slow steps along… And humming Sands, where windy su… And he called loudly to the stars…
Epilogue to 'A Vision’ Midnight has come, and the great… And may a lesser bell sound throug… And it is All Souls’ Night, And two long glasses brimmed with…
The lot of love is chosen. I lea… Struggling for an image on the tra… Of the whirling Zodiac. Scarce did he my body touch, Scarce sank he from the west
KING EOCHAID came at sundown… Westward of Tara. Hurrying to hi… He had outridden his war-wasted me… That with empounded cattle trod th… And where beech-trees had mixed a…
I hear the Shadowy Horses, their… Their hoofs heavy with tumult, the… The North unfolds above them clin… The East her hidden joy before th… The West weeps in pale dew and si…
HERE is fresh matter, poet, Matter for old age meet; Might of the Church and the State… Their mobs put under their feet. O but heart’s wine shall run pure,
ALTHOUGH I shelter from the ra… Under a broken tree My chair was nearest to the fire In every company That talked of love or politics,
I HAVE heard the pigeons of the… Make their faint thunder, and the… Hum in the lime-tree flowers; and… The unavailing outcries and the ol… That empty the heart. I have forg…
O curlew, cry no more in the air, Or only to the water in the West; Because your crying brings to my m… passion-dimmed eyes and long heavy… That was shaken out over my breast…
A STATESMAN is an easy man, He tells his lies by rote; A journalist makes up his lies And takes you by the throat; So stay at home’ and drink your be…
The true faith discovered was When painted panel, statuary. Glass-mosaic, window-glass, Amended what was told awry By some peasant gospeller;