#1899 #IrishWriters #TheWindAmongTheReeds
OTHERS because you did not keep That deep-sworn vow have been frie… Yet always when I look death in t… When I clamber to the heights of… Or when I grow excited with wine,
The true faith discovered was When painted panel, statuary. Glass-mosaic, window-glass, Amended what was told awry By some peasant gospeller;
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…
The Powers whose name and shape n… Have pulled the Immortal Rose; And though the Seven Lights bowed… The Polar Dragon slept, His heavy rings uncoiled from glim…
There was a green branch hung with… When her own people ruled this tra… And from its murmuring greenness,… A Druid kindness, on all hearers… It charmed away the merchant from…
GRANDFATHER sang it under the… ‘ Hear, gentlemen, ladies, and all… Money is good and a girl might be… But good strong blows are delights… There, standing on the catt,
O but there is wisdom In what the sages said; But stretch that body for a while And lay down that head Till I have told the sages
‘I am of Ireland, And the Holy Land of Ireland, And time runs on,’ cried she. ‘Come out of charity, Come dance with me in Ireland.’
Turning and turning in the widenin… The falcon cannot hear the falcone… Things fall apart; the centre cann… Mere anarchy is loosed upon the wo… The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, a…
FOR one throb of the artery, While on that old grey stone I Sa… Under the old wind-broken tree, I knew that One is animate, Mankind inanimate fantasy’.
YOU think it horrible that lust a… Should dance attention upon my old… They were not such a plague when… What else have I to spur me into…
REMEMBER all those renowned ge… They left their bodies to fatten t… They left their homesteads to fatt… Fled to far countries, or sheltere… In cavern, crevice, or hole,
I went out to the hazel wood, Because a fire was in my head, And cut and peeled a hazel wand, And hooked a berry to a thread; And when white moths were on the w…
Who will go drive with Fergus now… And pierce the deep wood’s woven s… And dance upon the level shore? Young man, lift up your russet bro… And lift your tender eyelids, maid…
WHY should not old men be mad? Some have known a likely lad That had a sound fly-fisher’s wris… Turn to a drunken journalist; A girl that knew all Dante once