#IrishWriters
Adieu to Belashanny! where I was… Go where I may, I’ll think of you… The kindly spot, the friendly town… And not a face in all the place bu… There’s not a house or window, the…
By the shore, a plot of ground Clips a ruined chapel round, Buttressed with a grassy mound; Where Day and Night and Day go b… And bring no touch of human sound.
That which he did not feel, he wou… What most he felt, religion it was… In a dumb darkling grotto, where t… Of tremulous tears, arising unespi… Became a holy well that durst not…
The Boy from his bedroom-window Look’d over the little town, And away to the bleak black upland Under a clouded moon. The moon came forth from her caver…
Is always Age severe? Is never Youth austere? Spring-fruits are sour to eat; Autumn’s the mellow time. Nay, very late in the year,
Seek up and down, both fair and br… We’ve purty lasses many, O; But brown or fair, one girl most r… The Flow’r o’ Belashanny, O. As straight is she as poplar-tree
When the spinning-room was here Came Three Damsels, clothed in wh… With their spindles every night; One and Two and three fair Maiden… Spinning to a pulsing cadence,
In Sussex here, by shingle and by… Flat fields and farmsteads in thei… The shallow tide-wave courses to t… And all along the down a fringe on… Of ducal woods. That 'dim discove…
Doleful was the land, Dull on, every side, Neither soft n’or grand, Barren, bleak, and wide; Nothing look’d with love;
Oh, lovely Mary Donnelly, my joy,… If fifty girls were round you, I’… Be what it may the time o’ day,… Sweet looks o’ Mary Donnelly, t… Her eyes like mountain water that’…
Down on the shore, on the sunny sh… Where the salt smell cheers the la… Where the tide moves bright under… And the surge on the glittering st… Where the children wade in the sha…
Adieu to Belashanny! where I was bred and born; Go where I may, I’ll think of you… as sure as night and morn. The kindly spot, the friendly town…
I’m glad I am alive, to see and f… The full deliciousness of this bri… That’s like a heart with nothing t… The young leaves scarcely tremblin… Rimming the cloudless ether far aw…
In early morning twilight, raw and… Damp vapours brooding on the barre… Through miles of mire in steady gr… Threescore well-arm’d police pursu… Each tall and bearded man a rifle…
O pale green sea, With long, pale, purple clouds abo… What lies in me like weight of lov… What dies in me With utter grief, because there co…