#1933 #IrishWriters #TheWindingStairAndOtherPoems
Cumhal called out, bending his hea… Till Dathi came and stood, With a blink in his eyes, at the c… Between the wind and the wood. And Cumhal said, bending his knee…
I DREAMED that one had died in… Near no accustomed hand, And they had nailed the boards abo… The peasants of that land, Wondering to lay her in that solit…
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…
INDIGNANT at the fumbling wits… Of our old paudeen in his shop, I… Among the stones and thorn-trees,… Until a curlew cried and in the lu… A curlew answered; and suddenly th…
Though you are in your shining day… Voices among the crowd And new friends busy with your pra… Be not unkind or proud, But think about old friends the mo…
BALD heads forgetful of their si… Old, learned, respectable bald hea… Edit and annotate the lines That young men, tossing on their b… Rhymed out in love’s despair
From pleasure of the bed, Dull as a worm, His rod and its butting head Limp as a worm, His spirit that has fled
Behold that great Plotinus swim, Buffeted by such seas; Bland Rhadamanthus beckons him, But the Golden Race looks dim, Salt blood blocks his eyes.
I saw a staring virgin stand Where holy Dionysus died, And tear the heart out of his side… And lay the heart upon her hand And bear that beating heart away;
If this importunate heart trouble… With words lighter than air, Or hopes that in mere hoping flick… Crumple the rose in your hair; And cover your lips with odorous t…
I will arise and go now, and go to… And a small cabin build there, of… Nine bean-rows will I have there,… And live alone in the bee-loud gla… And I shall have some peace there…
HURRAH for revolution and more… A beggar upon horseback lashes a b… Hurrah for revolution and cannon c… The beggars have changed places, b…
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:
WHY should not old men be mad? Some have known a likely lad That had a sound fly-fisher’s wris… Turn to a drunken journalist; A girl that knew all Dante once
Poets with whom I learned my trad… Companions of the Cheshire Cheese… Here’s an old story I’ve remade, Imagining 'twould better please Your cars than stories now in fash…