#IrishWriters
Come from your bed my drowsy gentl… And you, fair lady, rise and braid… And let the children wash, if wash… If not, assist you them, and make… As is the morning and the morning…
I saw the Devil walking down the… Behind our house.'There was a h… Strapped tightly on his shoulders,… Sizzled when it hit him. He picke… Up from the ground and put it in h…
THE lanky hank of a she in the in… Nearly killed me for asking the lo… May the devil grip the whey-faced… And beat bad manners out of her sk… That parboiled imp, with the harde…
The crooked paths go every way Upon the hill - they wind about Through the heather in and out Of the quiet sunniness. And there the goats, day after day…
An old man sat beneath a tree Alone; So still was he That, if he had been carved in sto… He could not be
The wind stood up and gave a shout… He whistled on his fingers and Kicked the withered leaves about And thumped the branches with his… And said that he’d kill and kill,
I cling and swing On a branch, or sing Through the cool, clear hush of M… Or fling my wing On the air, and bring
A little girl and a big ugly man Went down the road. The girl was… And asking to go home, but when sh… He hit her on the head and sent he… And called her a young imp, and sa…
The sun is always in the sky Whenever I get out of bed, And I often wonder why It’s never late.—My sister said She did not know who did the trick…
The leaves are fresh after the rai… The air is cool and clear, The sun is shining warm again, The sparrows hopping in the lane Are brisk and full of cheer.
A speck went blowing up against th… As little as a leaf: then it drew… And broadened.—' It’s a bird,' sa… And fetched my bow and arrows. It… It grew up from a speck into a blo…
The moon comes every night to peep Through the window where I lie, And I pretend to be asleep; But I watch the moon as it goes b… And it never makes a sound.
AND then I pressed the shell Close to my ear And listened well, And straightway like a bell Came low and clear
So Eden was deserted, and at eve Into the quiet place God came to… His face was sad, His hands hung… Along his robe; too sorrowful to f… He paced along the grassy paths an…
I will sing no more songs: the pri… Through forty long years of good r… And no one cared even as much as t… For the song or the singer, so her… If a person should think I compla…