#Irish #NobelPrize #XIXCentury #XXCentury #1933 #TheWindingStairAndOtherPoems
A little Indian temple in the Gol… that the forest. Anashuya, the you… temple. Anashuya. Send peace on all the l… O, may tranquillity walk by his el…
THAT civilisation may not sink, Its great battle lost, Quiet the dog, tether the pony To a distant post; Our master Caesar is in the tent
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,
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…
The First. My great-grandfather s… In Grattan’s house. The Second. My great-grandfather… A pot-house bench with Oliver Gol… The Third. My great-grandfather’s…
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…
SAY that the men of the old black… Though they but feed as the goathe… Their money spent, their wine gone… Lack nothing that a soldier needs, That all are oath-bound men:
DEAR fellow-artist, why so free With every sort of company, With every Jack and Jill? Choose your companions from the be… Who draws a bucket with the rest
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,
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
FIVE-AND-TWENTY years have g… Since old William Pollexfen Laid his strong bones down in deat… By his wife Elizabeth In the grey stone tomb he made.
That lover of a night Came when he would, Went in the dawning light Whether I would or no; Men come, men go;
I FASTED for some forty days on… For passing round the bottle with… In country shawl or Paris cloak,… And what’s the good of women, for… Is fol de rol de rolly O.
Ah, that Time could touch a form That could show what Homer’s age Bred to be a hero’s wage. ‘Were not all her life but storm, Would not painters paint a form
SADDLE and ride, I heard a man… Out of Ben Bulben and Knocknarea… i{What says the Clock in the Grea… All those tragic characters ride But turn from Rosses’ crawling ti…
