#1899 #IrishWriters #TheWindAmongTheReeds
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…
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…
Dry timber under that rich foliage… At wine-dark midnight in the sacre… Too old for a man’s love I stood… Imagining men. Imagining that I… A greater with a lesser pang assua…
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
Were you but lying cold and dead, And lights were paling out of the… You would come hither, and bend yo… And I would lay my head on your b… And you would murmur tender words,
A BLOODY and a sudden end, Gunshot or a noose, For Death who takes what man woul… Leaves what man would lose. He might have had my sister,
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.…
When you are old and grey and full… And nodding by the fire, take down… And slowly read, and dream of the… Your eyes had once, and of their s… How many loved your moments of gla…
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
A MAN I praise that once in Tar… Said to the woman on his knees, ‘… My hundredth year is at an end.… That something is about to happen,… That the adventure of old age begi…
COME play with me; Why should you run Through the shaking tree As though I’d a gun To strike you dead?
Under the Great Comedian’s tomb t… A bundle of tempestuous cloud is b… About the sky; where that is clear… Brightness remains; a brighter sta… What shudders run through all that…
I found that ivory image there Dancing with her chosen youth, But when he wound her coal-black h… As though to strangle her, no scre… Or bodily movement did I dare,
I HAVE no happiness in dreaming… Nor Avalon the grass-green hollow… Where one found Lancelot crazed a… Nor Uladh, when Naoise had thrown… Nor lands that seem too dim to be…
ONE that is ever kind said yester… ‘Your well-beloved’s hair has thre… And little shadows come about her… Time can but make it easier to be… Though now it seems impossible, an…