#IrishWriters
Under my window-ledge the waters r… Otters below and moor-hens on the… Run for a mile undimmed in Heaven… Then darkening through 'dark’ Raf… Run underground, rise in a rocky p…
I HAD this thought a while ago, ‘My darling cannot understand What I have done, or what would d… In this blind bitter land.’ And I grew weary of the sun
Violence upon the roads: violence… Some few have handsome riders, are… On delicate sensitive ear or tossi… But wearied running round and roun… All break and vanish, and evil gat…
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,
THE angels are stooping Above your bed; They weary of trooping With the whimpering dead. God’s laughing in Heaven
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,
I meditate upon a swallow’s flight… Upon a aged woman and her house, A sycamore and lime-tree lost in n… Although that western cloud is lum… Great works constructed there in n…
As I came over Windy Gap They threw a halfpenny into my cap… For I am running to paradise; And all that I need do is to wish And somebody puts his hand in the…
The heron-billed pale cattle-birds That feed on some foul parasite Of the Moroccan flocks and herds Cross the narrow Straits to light In the rich midnight of the garden…
Ah, but Time has touched 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
THIS night has been so strange t… As if the hair stood up on my head… From going-down of the sun I have… That women laughing, or timid or w… In rustle of lace or silken stuff,
I HAVE no happiness in dreaming… Nor Avalon the grass-green hollow… Where one found Lancelot crazed a… Nor Uladh, when Naoise had thrown… Nor lands that seem too dim to be…
Fergus. This whole day have I fol… And you have changed and flowed fr… First as a raven on whose ancient… Scarcely a feather lingered, then… A weasel moving on from stone to s…
GOD grant a blessing on this towe… And on my heirs, if all remain uns… No table, or chair or stool not si… For shepherd lads in Galilee; and… That I myself for portions of the…
I know, although when looks meet I tremble to the bone, The more I leave the door unlatch… The sooner love is gone, For love is but a skein unwound