#IrishWriters
ALL things can tempt me from this… One time it was a woman’s face, or… The seeming needs of my fool-drive… Now nothing but comes readier to t… Than this accustomed toil. When I…
YOU waves, though you dance by my… Though you glow and you glance, th… In the Junes that were warmer tha… When I was a boy with never a cra… The herring are not in the tides a…
The deck of an ancient ship. At the right of the stage is the mast, with a large square sail hiding a great deal of the sky and sea on that side. The tiller is at the left of the stag...
SAID lady once to lover, ‘None can rely upon A love that lacks its proper food; And if your love were gone How could you sing those songs of…
Endure what life God gives and as… Cease to remember the delights of… Delight becomes death-longing if a… Even from that delight memory trea… Death, despair, division of famili…
YOU ask what—I have found, and f… Nothing but Cromwell’s house and… The lovers and the dancers are bea… And the tall men and the swordsmen… And there is an old beggar wanderi…
Had I the heavens’ embroidered cl… Enwrought with golden and silver l… The blue and the dim and the dark… Of night and light and the half-li… I would spread the cloths under yo…
I walked among the seven woods of… Shan-walla, where a willow-hordere… Gathers the wild duck from the win… Shady Kyle-dortha; sunnier Kyle-n… Where many hundred squirrels are a…
THEY must to keep their certaint… All that are different of a base i… Pull down established honour; hawk… Whatever their loose fantasy inven… And murmur it with bated breath, a…
BECAUSE there is safety in deri… I talked about an apparition, I took no trouble to convince, Or seem plausible to a man of sens… Distrustful of thar popular eye
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…
THOUGH you are in your shining… Voices among the crowd And new friends busy with your pra… Be not unkind or proud, But think about old friends the mo…
The heron-billed pale cattle-birds That feed on some foul parasite Of the Moroccan flocks and herds Cross the narrow Straits to light In the rich midnight of the garden…
A mermaid found a swimming lad, Picked him for her own, Pressed her body to his body, Laughed; and plunging down Forgot in cruel happiness