#Irish
October - and the skies are cool a… O’er stubbles emptied of their lat… Bare meadow, and the slowly fallin… The dignity of woods in rich decay Accords full well with this majest…
O spirit of the Summer-time! Bring back the roses to the dells; The swallow from her distant clime… The honey-bee from drowsy cells. Bring back the friendship of the s…
Here the white-ray’d anemone is bo… Wood-sorrel, and the varnish’d but… And primrose in its purfled green… Pallid and sweet round every buddi… Gray ash, and beech with rusty lea…
Saint Margaret’s Eve it did befal… The waves roll so gayly O, The tide came creeping up the wall… Love me true! I opened my gate; who there should…
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’…
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
Hayrick some do spell thy name, And thy verse approves the same; For ’tis like fresh-scented hay,— With country lasses in’t at play.
Amy Margaret’s five years old, Amy Margaret’s hair is gold, Dearer twenty-thousand-fold Than gold, is Amy Margaret. “Amy” is friend, is “Margaret”
Good-bye, good-bye to Summer! For Summer’s nearly done; The garden smiling faintly, Cool breezes in the sun; Our Thrushes now are silent,
Four ducks on a pond, A grass-bank beyond, A blue sky of spring, White clouds on the wing; What a little thing
Up the airy mountain, Down the rushy glen, We daren’t go a-hunting For fear of little men; Wee folk, good folk,
Chequer’d with woven shadows as I… Among the grass, blinking the wate… I saw an Echo-Spirit in his bay Most idly floating in the noontide… Slow heaved his filmy skiff, and f…
A fair witch crept to a young man’… And he kiss’d her and took her for… But a Shape came in at the dead o… And fill’d the room with snowy lig… And he saw how in his arms there l…
Pluck not the wayside flower, It is the traveller’s dower; A thousand passers-by Its beauties may espy, May win a touch of blessing
