#Irish #NobelPrize #XIXCentury #XXCentury #1933 #TheWindingStairAndOtherPoems
The Danaan children laugh, in cra… And clap their hands together, and… For they will ride the North when… With heavy whitening wings, and a… I kiss my wailing child and press…
We who are old, old and gay, O so old! Thousands of years, thousands of y… If all were told: Give to these children, new from t…
REMEMBER all those renowned ge… They left their bodies to fatten t… They left their homesteads to fatt… Fled to far countries, or sheltere… In cavern, crevice, or hole,
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…
I went out alone To sing a song or two, My fancy on a man, And you know who. Another came in sight
Although I can see him still, The freckled man who goes To a grey place on a hill In grey Connemara clothes At dawn to cast his flies,
I WOULD that we were, my belove… We tire of the flame of the meteor… And the flame of the blue star of… Has awakened in our hearts, my bel… A weariness comes from those dream…
He. Dear, I must be gone While night Shuts the eyes Of the household spies; That song announces dawn. She. No, night’s bird and love’s
What shall I do with this absurdi… O heart, O troubled heart—this ca… Decrepit age that has been tied to… As to a dog’s tail? Never had I more
Out-Worn heart, in a time out-wor… Come clear of the nets of wrong an… Laugh, heart, again in the grey tw… Sigh, heart, again in the dew of t… Your mother Eire is aways young,
I lived among great houses, Riches drove out rank, Base drove out the better blood, And mind and body shrank. No Oscar ruled the table,
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;
O bid me mount and sail up there Amid the cloudy wrack, For peg and Meg and Paris’ love That had so straight a back, Are gone away, and some that stay
A storm beaten old watch-tower, A blind hermit rings the hour. All-destroying sword-blade still Carried by the wandering fool. Gold-sewn silk on the sword-blade,
ONE had a lovely face, And two or three had charm, But charm and face were in vain Because the mountain grass Cannot but keep the form
