#1933 #IrishWriters #TheWindingStairAndOtherPoems
The light of evening, Lissadell, Great windows open to the south, Two girls in silk kimonos, both Beautiful, one a gazelle. But a raving autumn shears
In tombs of gold and lapis lazuli Bodies of holy men and women exude Miraculous oil, odour of violet. But under heavy loads of trampled… Lie bodies of the vampires full of…
ALL the heavy days are over; Leave the body’s coloured pride Underneath the grass and clover, With the feet laid side by side. Bathed in flaming founts of duty
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 MAN that had six mortal wounds… Violent and famous, strode among t… Eyes stared out of the branches an… Then certain Shrouds that muttere… Came and were gone. He leant upo…
‘CALL down the hawk from the air… Let him be hooded or caged Till the yellow eye has grown mild… For larder and spit are bare, The old cook enraged,
ON the grey rock of Cashel the mi… Has called up the cold spirits tha… When the old moon is vanished from… And the new still hides her horn. Under blank eyes and fingers never…
A DOLL in the doll-maker’s house Looks at the cradle and bawls: ‘That is an insult to us.’ But the oldest of all the dolls, Who had seen, being kept for show,
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…
HOPE that you may understand! What can books of men that wive In a dragon-guarded land, paintings of the dolphin-drawn Sea-nymphs in their pearly wagons
Where dips the rocky highland Of Sleuth Wood in the lake, There lies a leafy island Where flapping herons wake The drowsy water rats;
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…
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…
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…
O HURRY where by water among th… The delicate-stepping stag and his… When they have but looked upon the… Would none had ever loved but you… Or have you heard that sliding sil…