The Wild Swans at Coole. 1919.
#IrishWriters
A STORM BEATEN old watch-tow… A blind hermit rings the hour. All-destroying sword-blade still Carried by the wandering fool. Gold-sewn silk on the sword-blade,
Slim adolescence that a nymph has… Peleus on Thetis stares. Her limbs are delicate as an eyeli… Love has blinded him with tears; But Thetis’ belly listens.
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
I met the Bishop on the road And much said he and I. ‘Those breasts are flat and fallen… Those veins must soon be dry; Live in a heavenly mansion,
The old priest Peter Gilligan Was weary night and day For half his flock were in their b… Or under green sods lay. Once, while he nodded in a chair
ALTHOUGH I shelter from the ra… Under a broken tree My chair was nearest to the fire In every company That talked of love or politics,
Once more the storm is howling, an… Under this cradle—hood and coverli… My child sleeps on. There is no… But Gregory’s wood and one bare h… Whereby the haystack—and roof—leve…
That lover of a night Came when he would, Went in the dawning light Whether I would or no; Men come, men go;
Hidden by old age awhile In masker’s cloak and hood, Each hating what the other loved, Face to face we stood: ‘That I have met with such,’ said…
IF you have revisited the town, t… Whether to look upon your monument (I wonder if the builder has been… Or happier-thoughted when the day… To drink of that salt breath out o…
Shepherd. That cry’s from the fir… I wished before it ceased. Goatherd. Nor bird n… Could make me wish for anything th… Being old, but that the old alone…
I CRIED when the moon was mutmu… ‘Let peewit call and curlew cry wh… I long for your merry and tender a… For the roads are unending, and th… The honey-pale moon lay low on the…
I - CRAZY JANE AND THE… BRING me to the blasted oak That I, midnight upon the stroke, (All find safety in the tomb.) May call down curses on his head
I dreamed that I stood in a valle… For happy lovers passed two by two… And I dreamed my lost love came s… With her cloud-pale eyelids fallin… I cried in my dream ‘O women bid…
HIS chosen comrades thought at sc… He must grow a famous man; He thought the same and lived by r… All his twenties crammed with toil… ‘What then?’ sang Plato’s ghost.…