#Irish #NobelPrize #XIXCentury #XXCentury #1933 #TheWindingStairAndOtherPoems
Beloved, may your sleep be sound That have found it where you fed. What were all the world’s alarms To mighty paris when he found Sleep upon a golden bed
Like the moon her kindness is, If kindness I may call What has no comprehension in’t, But is the same for all As though my sorrow were a scene
Shakespearean fish swam the sea, f… Romantic fish swam in nets coming… What are all those fish that lie g…
Acquaintance; companion; One dear brilliant woman; The best-endowed, the elect, All by their youth undone, All, all, by that inhuman
All things uncomely and broken, al… The cry of a child by the roadway,… The heavy steps of the ploughman,… Are wronging your image that bloss… The wrong of unshapely things is a…
What they undertook to do They brought to pass; All things hang like a drop of dew Upon a blade of grass.
O what to me the little room That was brimmed up with prayer an… He bade me out into the gloom, And my breast lies upon his breast… O what to me my mother’s care,
FASTEN your hair with a golden… And bind up every wandering tress; I bade my heart build these poor r… It worked at them, day out, day in… Building a sorrowful loveliness
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…
I KNOW that I shall meet my fat… Somewhere among the clouds above; Those that I fight I do not hate, Those that I guard I do not love; My county is Kiltartan Cross,
I dreamed as in my bed I lay, All night’s fathomless wisdom come… That I had shorn my locks away And laid them on Love’s lettered… But something bore them out of sig…
Crazed through much child-bearing The moon is staggering in the sky; Moon-struck by the despairing Glances of her wandering eye We grope, and grope in vain,
When I play on my fiddle in Doone… Folk dance like a wave of the sea; My cousin is priest in Kilvarnet, My brother in Mocharabuiee. I passed my brother and cousin:
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...
I THINK it better that in times… A poet’s mouth be silent, for in t… We have no gift to set a statesman… He has had enough of meddling who… A young girl in the indolence of h…
