#IrishWriters
The Steamer ‘ Atlantic ’ Was Wre… FOR months and years, with penury… And heart-sore envy did they dare… And mite by mite was saved from ea… To buy, some future day, the God-…
NOR War nor Peace, forever, old… But Strength my theme, whose song… The People’s Strength, the deep a… Of truths that seethe below the tr… The buried ruins of dead empires s…
THE world is large, when its wear… But the world is small, when your…
o The faithful helm commands the kee… From port to port fair breezes blo… But the ship must sail the convex… Nor may she straighter go.
I START! I have slept for a mom… I have dreamt, sitting here by her… Oh, how lonely! What was it that… What presence, what heaven-sent ai… It was nothing, you say. But I tr…
There are lonesome places upon the… That have never re-echoed a sound… Where the spirits abide that feast… On the shuddering soul of a murder… And take grim delight in the fearf…
IT chanced to me upon a time to s… Across the Southern Ocean to and… And, landing at fair isles, by str… Of sensuous blessing did we ofttim… And months of dreamy joys, like jo…
Chicago, October 9,1871. GAUNT in the midst of the prairi… She who was once so fair; Charred and rent are her garments, Heavy and dark like cerements;
I told her a story, a fairy story, My little daughter with eyes of bl… And with clear, wide gaze as the s… She always asked me—'Oh, is it tr… Always that word when the wonder r…
THE world was made when a man was… He must taste for himself the forb… He can never take warning from old… He must fight as a boy, he must dr… Of the friend of his soul; he must…
IN the Spring we see: Then the buds are dear to us—immat… In the Summer we live: When bright eyes are near to us, o… In the Autumn we love:
ONLY a fallen horse, stretched o… Stretched in the broken shafts, an… Only a fallen horse, and a circle… Watching the 'frighted teamster go… Hold! for his toil is over—no more…
LOVE was true to me, True and tender; I who ought to be Love’s defender, Let the cold winds blow
Life is a certainty, Death is a doubt; Men may be dead While they’re walking about. Love is as needful
MY friend he was; my friend from… With childlike faith he oped to me… No door was locked on altar, grave… No weakness veiled, concealed no d… The hope, the sorrow and the wrong…