WHERE had her sweetness gone?
What fanatics invent
In this blind bitter town,
Fantasy or incident
Not worth thinking of,

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,

Pardon, old fathers, if you still
Somewhere in ear-shot for the stor
Old Dublin merchant “free of the
Or trading out of Galway into Spa
Old country scholar, Robert Emmet

YOU waves, though you dance by my
Though you glow and you glance, th
In the Junes that were warmer tha
When I was a boy with never a cra
The herring are not in the tides a

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

Though leaves are many, the root i
Through all the lying days of my y
I swayed my leaves and flowers in
Now I may wither into the truth.

ACQUAINTANCE; companion;
One dear brilliant woman;
The best-endowed, the elect,
All by their youth undone,
All, all, by that inhuman

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,

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

MANY ingenious lovely things are
That seemed sheer miracle to the m
protected from the circle of the m
That pitches common things about.
Amid the ornamental bronze and sto