#1910 #IrishWriters #TheGreenHelmetAndOtherPoems
BEAUTIFUL lofty things: O’Le… My father upon the Abbey stage, b… ‘This Land of Saints,’ and then a… 'Of plaster Saints’; his beautifu… Standish O’Grady supporting himse…
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…
THE old brown thorn-trees break i… Under a bitter black wind that blo… Our courage breaks like an old tre… But we have hidden in our hearts t… Of Cathleen, the daughter of Houl…
Between extremities Man runs his course; A brand, or flaming breath. Comes to destroy All those antinomies
NOW as at all times I can see in… In their stiff, painted clothes, t… Appear and disappear in the blue d… With all their ancient faces like… And all their helms of silver hove…
The Danaan children laugh, in cra… And clap their hands together, and… For they will ride the North when… With heavy whitening wings, and a… I kiss my wailing child and press…
The Heavenly Circuit; Berenice’s… Tent-pole of Eden; the tent’s dra… Symbolical glory of thc earth and… The Father and His angelic hierar… That made the magnitude and glory…
WOULD I could cast a sail on th… Where many a king has gone And many a king’s daughter, And alight at the comely trees and… The playing upon pipes and the dan…
We sat under an old thorn-tree And talked away the night, Told all that had been said or don… Since first we saw the light, And when we talked of growing up
The threefold terror of love; a fa… Through the hollow of an ear; Wings beating about the room; The terror of all terrors that I… The Heavens in my womb.
‘O WORDS are lightly spoken,’ Said Pearse to Connolly, ‘Maybe a breath of politic words Has withered our Rose Tree; Or maybe but a wind that blows
‘Those Platonists are a curse,’ h… ‘God’s fire upon the wane, A diagram hung there instead, More women born than men.’
If you, that have grown old, were… Neither catalpa tree nor scented l… Should hear my living feet, nor wo… Where we wrought that shall break… Let the new faces play what tricks…
S. Patrick. You who are bent, and… With a heavy heart and a wandering… Have known three centuries, poets… Of dalliance with a demon thing. Oisin. Sad to remember, sick with…