#IrishWriters
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
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…
When the flaming lute-thronged ang… When an immortal passion breathes… Our hearts endure the scourge, the… Crowded with bitter faces, the wou… The vinegar-heavy sponge, the flow…
WE have cried in our despair That men desert, For some trivial affair Or noisy, insolent sport, Beauty that we have won
I know that I shall meet my fate Somewhere among the clouds above; Those that I fight I do not hate Those that I guard I do not love; My country is Kiltartan Cross,
IN MEMORY OF EVA GORE… THE light of evening, Lissadell, Great windows open to the south, Two girls in silk kimonos, both Beautiful, one a gazelle.
If any man drew near When I was young, I thought, ‘He holds her dear,’ And shook with hate and fear. But O! ‘twas bitter wrong
ON thrones from China to Peru All sorts of kings have sat That men and women of all sorts proclaimed both good and great; And what’s the odds if such as the…
That crazed girl improvising her m… Her poetry, dancing upon the shore… Her soul in division from itself Climbing, falling She knew not wh… Hiding amid the cargo of a steamsh…
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,
‘Your eyes that once were never we… Are bowed in sotrow under pendulou… Because our love is waning.’ And then She: ‘Although our love is waning, let…
Some moralist or mythological poet Compares the solitary soul to a sw… I am satisfied with that, Satisfied if a troubled mirror sho… Before that brief gleam of its lif…
Sung by the people of Faery ov… We who are old, old and gay, O so old! Thousands of years, thousands of y… If all were told:
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,
The unpurged images of day recede; The Emperor’s drunken soldiery ar… Night resonance recedes, night-wal… After great cathedral gong; A starlit or a moonlit dome disdai…