#1910 #IrishWriters #TheGreenHelmetAndOtherPoems
Surely among a rich man s flowerin… Amid the rustle of his planted hil… Life overflows without ambitious p… And rains down life until the basi… And mounts more dizzy high the mor…
I, proclaiming that there is Among birds or beasts or men One that is perfect or at peace. Danced on Cruachan’s windy plain, Upon Cro-patrick sang aloud;
She lived in storm and strife, Her soul had such desire For what proud death may bring That it could not endure The common good of life,
I have pointed out the yelling pac… The hare leap to the wood, And when I pass a compliment Rejoice as lover should At the drooping of an eye,
Bolt and bar the shutter, For the foul winds blow: Our minds are at their best this n… And I seem to know That everything outside us is
‘ALTHOUGH I’d lie lapped up in… A deal I’d sweat and little earn If I should live as live the neig… Cried the beggar, Billy Byrne; ‘Stretch bones till the daylight c…
O’Driscoll drove with a song The wild duck and the drake From the tall and the tufted reeds Of the drear Hart Lake. And he saw how the reeds grew dark
The fascination of what’s difficul… Has dried the sap out of my veins,… Spontaneous joy and natural conten… Out of my heart. There’s somethin… That must, as if it had not holy b…
Where had her sweetness gone? What fanatics invent In this blind bitter town, Fantasy or incident Not worth thinking of,
THE girl goes dancing there On the leaf-sown, new-mown, smooth Grass plot of the garden; Escaped from bitter youth, Escaped out of her crowd,
THERE is grey in your hair. Young men no longer suddenly catch… When you are passing; But maybe some old gaffer mutters… Because it was your prayer
OTHERS because you did not keep That deep-sworn vow have been frie… Yet always when I look death in t… When I clamber to the heights of… Or when I grow excited with wine,
I HAVE heard the pigeons of the… Make their faint thunder, and the… Hum in the lime-tree flowers; and… The unavailing outcries and the ol… That empty the heart. I have forg…
‘I am of Ireland, And the Holy Land of Ireland, And time runs on,’ cried she. ‘Come out of charity, Come dance with me in Ireland.’
Dry timber under that rich foliage… At wine-dark midnight in the sacre… Too old for a man’s love I stood… Imagining men. Imagining that I… A greater with a lesser pang assua…